Staying afloat
by lisarazmotte
Summary: Feyre has been dating Tamlin for a while, and she couldn't be happier. Until a stranger tells her something about her boyfriend she wasn't expecting, and her whole life goes to hell. Her boyfriend is involved in shady business, and the more Feyre learns about it, the more it affects their life together. slow-burn. domestic abuse. Thanks imaginemotherofdragons for betareading!
1. Chapter 1

So, my Feysand fic _"I made you a promise__"_ is over... You can find it on my works if you're interested, it's basically all fluff, focused on character and relationship development. But fear not, my brain is still coming up with story ideas to write, so I'm not done!

This new fic is of a much more different tone, basically much more **angsty**, and much more **slow-burn**! More importantly, this story will see **Tamlin and Feyre as a couple** for a good part of it, so there will be **mention and appearance of domestic abuse, mention of drugs, murder**). It's very important that you take these warnings into account, I don't want you to feel bad reading this story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to let me know what you think, thank you so much for reading!

xxx

* * *

She was in such a mess. It had all started with her accompanying her boyfriend to a garden party for work. She'd never expected it would lead her here, all these weeks later, washing fresh blood off her hands while the others were taking care of the body.

* * *

Feyre looked at herself one last time in the mirror before leaving the bedroom. The dress was pretty enough, green and flowing around her, fitting for a dinner party in the beginning of Spring. Not that she had wanted to accompany him in the first place, she generally avoided any kind of contact with Tamlin's job. But he'd insisted all week about how important it would be for him to have her there with him, so now there she was, heading for a very fancy party at the house of one of the wealthiest families in town.

"Feyre, Doll, are you coming?" He called from downstairs, clearly annoyed at how long she'd taken to get dressed.

"Yes, I'll be right there." She grabbed her small handbag and ran out of the room and into the staircase, finding her boyfriend waiting for her at the bottom of it, dashing in a cream-colored suit, his long blonde hair tied in a high ponytail and leaving his face free. He smiled at her when she reached him, but she rolled her eyes.

"Oh don't think that I'm not still mad at you for dragging me to this dinner, Tam. I'm going to make you pay a steep price later."

He laughed and she felt chills running down her spine when as he whispered in her ear "Oh don't worry, I'm ready to pay any price you want from me. You're a vision in this dress." He straightened up and offered her his hand.

"Shall we?"

"Aren't we waiting for Lucien?" He was the only reason she'd finally agreed to come, and she did not want to go if he wasn't there.

"No, he's joining us there directly. And I'm a little hurt that you'd rather spend the night with Lucien than me," he continued as he led her out the door and to the car waiting for them. They got in and the driver started, letting them settle on the back seat.

"You know I don't mean it like that, but it's going to be boring for me, Tam. You're only meeting with these people for some deal you didn't tell me about, I don't even understand why you want me to accompany you."

"You know why, Feyre. A lot of my father's most trusted partners will be there. I need you to support me."

"You need me to stand beside you and be pretty in silence." She couldn't restrain the bitterness in her voice. In the six months they'd been together, he'd taken her to such events a few times, and she'd always stood by without actually getting involved in the matters at hand. It was becoming tiresome, and boring.

"Feyre, please don't start, I can't have this argument again. Tonight is very important and…"

"I know. I'm sorry." And she was. For all the time they'd been together, Tamlin had taken care of her more than anyone had ever done in her life, and all he'd asked from her in return was to attend a few parties once in a while. She could spend another night smiling at his father's associates if it helped him.

"Don't worry about it. Plus," he said, leaning over to her and starting to kiss her neck, "we still have about half an hour in the car before we get to the house, we can enjoy at least that part of the night together."

She chuckled as he let his hands wander to her thighs, but her mind was still somewhere else, hoping Lucien would arrive before them and be there to help her go through the rest of the night.

* * *

He wasn't there. And apparently, he wouldn't get here for a long time, according to what one of Tamlin's brothers told her when she asked. The dinner party was hosted at a huge villa in the outskirts of the city. The dinner was actually a buffet, a wise choice considering the number of people that were attending. The house was crowded with people Feyre had never seen before, and in the ten minutes since they'd arrived, she hadn't recognized more than three or four people. She leaned into Tamlin and murmured into his ear:

"Who are all these people?"

"Oh, friends of friends mostly. One of my father's biggest investor is in town tonight only so he wanted to be able to see as many people as possible, maximize the evening."

"So… Is the night for business or not? I mean, I thought we were here to meet for work, but you're telling me he wanted to see his family and friends?"

"Don't worry about all this, sweetheart. Why don't I get you a cup of champagne, huh?" He slipped away without waiting for her to answer and came back minutes later with two cups in hand. She grabbed hers, and was about to start talking when he said:

"I'm sorry Doll, I just bumped into someone I needed to talk to tonight. Can I leave you alone for a moment?"

"Hum, yes sure. It's just that I…" he kissed her cheek and turned around to go back towards the bar "...don't know anyone."

But he was gone already. Feyre clenched her cup of champagne and turned around, hoping to find a familiar face in the crowd. She started to walk aimlessly in the room, but there was definitely no one she knew around her, so instead of standing inside alone, she opted for discovering the garden. At least there, she could stand alone in the dark and not look like an idiot in the middle of a room full of people she was supposed to befriend.

The garden was simple but beautiful, with soft lights scattered all around to give the guests privacy without leaving them in darkness. But she didn't pay much attention to the other guests there, as she realized where the house was standing. She approached the railing and admired the river under it. The garden had an open side over the Sidra, with a clear view of the Rainbow, the artist's quarter, on the other side. The multicolor lights of the district reflected in the calm water beneath, and if she focused, she could hear the faint sound of the music that she knew was playing on the streets there. She laid her elbows on the rail and smiled at the view, swirling her cup of champagne slowly in her hand. The Rainbow had always been her favorite part of the city, the bright paint on the walls and the music emanating from the cafes giving the place an outerworld feeling she loved. She sipped a bit of her champagne as she pictured the painting she could create of this view: the black water of the Sidra broken only by the colorful reflection of the houses, then softly fading away to let the night sky settle above them, the stars like -

"Beautiful view, isn't it?"

She jumped at the deep voice coming from beside her, spilling some of the champagne on her dress. She turned towards the voice with the firm intention of scolding the person it belonged to, but found herself speechless for a few seconds as she took in the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. Taller than her, he was wearing a black leather jacket that seemed to make him blend in with the night, and he smirked slightly at her, as if aware he'd scared her. But she didn't focus on his jacket, she was too absorbed by his eyes, a shade of blue so deep they seemed almost violet. She looked away from him and turned back to the Rainbow.

"You startled me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You seem to be the only person actually enjoying the view, everyone else is too busy to look at it, so I thought I'd come talk to you."

Feyre couldn't restrain her eyes from rolling. That was probably the lamest pick up line she'd heard in a long while. She turned back to him and found him now leaning on the rail beside her.

"I'm going to stop you right there,..."

"Rhysand. Rhysand Morgan."

"I'm going to stop you, Rhysand, before you lose any more time. I'm here with my boyfriend, so don't lose your breath on me."

He laughed at that. "Oh well that's pretty direct! Don't worry, I'm not here to flirt with you,..."

He raised an eyebrow at her, clearly waiting for her to give him her name, as he'd done earlier. She only looked away, and he chuckled.

"Alright, Darling, you don't have to tell me. But really, I'm not here to seduce you, or anyone else for that matter. I'd figured you weren't here alone anyway, or I would have known who you were, I know every person of importance at this party."

"What, because if you don't know me, that means I'm not important? You're an asshole."

"I'm really not, I'm simply good at my job, Darling. My boss wanted me to know every high player that would be attending, and I would have remembered your beautiful face if I'd seen it in my file." How he managed to flirt with her and annoy her in the same sentence was unbelievable to Feyre. She rolled her eyes again and replied:

"Well in that case, you probably know who my boyfriend is. Tamlin Atwell."

"_You're_ Tamlin's girl? Oh yeah I know _him_. I wouldn't have pictured his girlfriend to be so… feisty."

"Are you making fun of me?" She was feeling the anger rising inside her mind with every comment he made.

"Of course not! If anything, I'm complimenting you. I always pictured him with a docile girl who wouldn't get involved in his affairs, but you don't seem docile at all, Darling."

"Stop calling me 'Darling'."

"Tell me your name and I'll stop."

He was getting on her nerves so easily, it was incredible. She let out a sigh and answered: "Feyre. My name is Feyre."

"Nice to meet you Feyre, I'm Rhysand, but you can call me Rhys." His voice, although as arrogant as ever, seemed slightly softer. "And I really meant what I said as a compliment. I didn't think Tamlin would date someone who would get involved in this stuff."

"Well, he does, and I'm very involved in all this, so it seems that you're not as 'all-knowing' as you think."

Of course, she had no idea what was happening at this dinner party, and the only thing she knew about Tamlin's job was that the company imported food from South America. But she desperately needed to shut Rhysand's mouth, and this seemed like a good way to do it.

"It seems you're right, Feyre, I apologize. If you're Tamlin's girlfriend, we're going to see much more of each other so I hope you forgive me, and we can move on."

"How come we're going to be seeing each other?"

"After the deal is struck tonight, I'm going to work directly with Tamlin so I'm going to be with him a lot. I guess we'll see each other there. And I hope we'll get along well, you and I, so I apologize."

He seemed sincere enough, so she turned back to the view and drank a bit of her champagne, once again listening to the faint music that was coming from the Rainbow on the other side of the Sidra. Rhysand stayed beside her, and after a long minute of nervous silence, she looked at him again, finding him watching her from the corner of his eye.

"What."

He smiled and looked away. "Sorry. I'm just… baffled at the idea that Tamlin told you what the meeting tonight was about."

"Well, he did."

"It seems unbelievable that he would tell you about the drugs coming in tomorrow, that's all. I've always pictured him as a man who would try his best to keep women out of this. Don't take this the wrong way, but your boyfriend is kind of a sexist."

But Feyre hadn't registered anything he'd said after the start of his sentence.

"What did you say?"

"I said that he's a bit of a sexist."

"No, before that." She turned fully to him and straightened. "What did you say about drugs?"

He looked at her and said: "I said I'm surprised he told you about the drug deal happening tonight. It's kind of a secret transaction and…" But he trailed off as understanding flashed on his features. "You _didn't_ know."

"What are you talking about? What drug deal?"

He had already started to step away from her. "Oh no. Not happening. I already told you more than what I should've, I'm not talking about this with you."

She gripped his wrist and forced him to look at her. "You started this, you're going to finish it. Tell me what's going on."

"_I_ started this? Excuse me, am I the one who lied about knowing what was happening? I don't think so. So I don't have to tell you anything."

She couldn't seem to breathe normally, and her knees were so wobbly she could have fallen on the spot, but she didn't release her grip on his wrist.

"Rhysand, please." Her voice was coming out more steady than she felt, and he seemed to think about what he could do. He sighed and looked around him before turning back to her.

"Allright. Hybern's food import business is real, but it's not all they import from South America, the company is involved in the importation of 'Charmz' into the country. The meeting tonight is so that the associates may meet with a brother of Mr Hybern, that has been managing the labs for the last six months. I'm in charge of the security for Hybern, and I can't tell you more about what I do for him or his family."

Feyre tried to calm her raging heart, tried to process the information that has been given to her by this man she'd just met. But her brain didn't seem to want to work properly, because what he'd told her was impossible. Finally, she found her voice again.

"No, you're wrong. Tamlin isn't dealing drugs, he hates anything that's illegal, he would never do that."

"I don't know what to tell you Feyre, maybe you don't know him as well as you think."

"I have to find him, I have to talk to him."

She let go of his arm, but this time he was the one who grabbed her and made her look at him.

"Feyre, whatever you do, don't tell him I was the one to tell you about all this. I would lose my job, or worse, and I really can't afford that."

There was what looked like genuine worry in his eyes, and she opened her mouth to answer, but she heard a familiar voice from the other side of the garden.

"Feyre, there you are! I've been looking for you!" Lucien called her, and she watched him advance towards her.

"Feyre, please," Rhysand's voice was a mere whisper now, "if you confront Tamlin about this, please, promise me you won't tell him about me."

She looked between Lucien who was approaching and Rhysand who still held her wrist gently between his fingers, and she nodded at the latter.

"I promise," she whispered in return, before she took her hand back and started walking in the direction of her friend. Trying to keep the turmoil of emotions buried inside her for the time being, she smiled at Lucien the best she could and shoved the information she'd learned deep inside her.

* * *

It was all his fault, really.

If he'd just kept his mouth shut about the drug deal, she would have never found out about it, and she wouldn't be scraping blood from under her fingernails at the moment. She would probably be attending another dinner party, wearing the beautiful summer dress her boyfriend had bought for her last week, enjoying a margarita or a mojito in the living room of one of their friend's house. Instead, she was running through her thoughts to try and make sense of what had happened, and more importantly, what would happen now that there was a dead body in the back of her boyfriend's car.

It was all his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

Soooo here's chapter two, I hope you enjoy it! I have to say, even I am annoyed with Tamlin in this chapter but hey, I knew what I was getting into when I said "relationship-feylin"...

As always, trigger warnings apply for this work, about domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.

Thank you for reading and commenting and sharing, it means the world :) And thanks to my wonderful beta-reader awesome-username on Tumblr!

* * *

"_The company is involved in the importation of Charmz in the country."_

As Feyre jumped out of the car in front of their house, she couldn't stop her mind from rewinding over and over what Rhysand had told her.

After finding Lucien at the party, she'd been able to enjoy his company without thinking too much about the bomb a handsome stranger had dropped on her earlier. They'd shared food and chatted about what had happened in their lives since they'd last seen each other. She'd only caught glimpses of Rhysand a few times during the evening, coming and going between the dining room and the private library where the important meeting was surely happening. As for Tamlin, he had re-appeared by her side much later and had introduced her to some of the most important members of the Hybern family, clearly eager for them to like her. All in all, she hadn't really had a chance to sort through what she'd learned.

The ride home had been very quiet though, too quiet, and her mind had started to replay her entire conversation with Rhysand in the garden. She made quick work of opening the front door and immediately got up the stairs to her bedroom, not waiting to see if Tamlin was following her.

She needed to talk to him. Tonight. She needed to know that Rhysand was delusional, that her boyfriend's family wasn't making deals that involved the importation of illegal drugs into the country. It was impossible, she knew him, and she knew that he would never be involved in that kind of behaviour. Rhysand was wrong, she thought again as she watched Tamlin enter the bedroom, flash her a smile and move to the bathroom to take a shower. He was obviously wrong about all of this, she thought as she heard the water turn on in the shower. Or maybe Rhysand was right about Hybern dealing drugs, but he had to be wrong about Tamlin being, in any way, involved in all this. He would never, she knew it. She knew him.

"_Maybe you don't know him as well as you think."_

Rhysand's words wouldn't leave her, fogging her judgement of the situation and preventing her from imagining how she would confront Tamlin. She needed more time to think and sort through all this before she told him.

She undressed in a hurry, put on a nightgown and slid into bed, feigning sleep when Tamlin joined her for the night. But she didn't fall asleep for another hour, the wheels of her mind working towards developing the best plan of action.

* * *

Nearly a week had gone by since the dinner party, and Feyre still hadn't talked to Tamlin about what she'd learned. Instead, she'd thought of a way of confirming some of the story without confronting him. And it was happening today.

"Feyre, Doll, I just don't see why you would want to paint in my office instead of the room I had redecorated expressly for you."

"Tam, I told you I wanted to paint the view of the garden from your window because the light in the afternoon sets the perfect colors over the line of trees and the fountain. If I use another spot to paint, I won't have the same view of it and it won't give me the result I want. Plus, you won't be here today so I won't bother you."

They were walking towards the entry hall of the house and Tamlin was turning his back on her, obviously reluctant at the thought of letting her inside his office while he wasn't there. But she didn't let go of the idea as they reached the hall, getting her next argument ready. Her voice died in her throat as she realized three men stood near the door, one of them whom she'd met a few days ago, with deep blue eyes and jet black hair. He was smirking at her.

"Alright, I'm letting you use my office, but your painting better be good," his boyfriend told her before handing her the keys and turning to the men in the hall. "Bron, Hart, Rhysand," All three men nodded back in return, "Shall we?" He gave her a peck on the lips and led the way out the door. Rhysand was the last of them to leave, and he closed the door behind him with a grin and a wink in her direction. She rolled her eyes, even though he'd already closed the door, and clenched the key in her hand, her mind once more focused solely on her plan.

She went upstairs to get a fresh canvas and her painting material, before going back down to the last door on the left of the corridor. She opened the curtains and the window, set up everything so that she would have the best view of the garden, and then, spent the entire next hour sketching her painting, mixing the colors she needed and working on a first layer of paint.

Once she was satisfied that the painting looked done enough to be a good alibi for when Tamlin came back (she knew he would want to see it, he always did), she put her brush in a cup of water, went to clean up her hands in the nearby bathroom, scraping every trace of color of her nails, and began to work.

His office contained so many binders and books that she had no idea where she was to start if she wanted to find something. The office contained documents covering the last thirty years, Tamlin's father having used the same office before his son had taken over six years ago. Feyre ran her hands over the covers of the binders in the closest shelf, scanning the titles. She spent a good twenty minutes roaming the shelves, but found nothing else other than account books labeled all the same, with a name, a product and a date. She sighed as she took in what was probably the sixth volume called "Lanitta farm, tomatoes, 1995." What was she expecting, really? To find a book called "drug deals, Charmz importation, 2003"? She laughed a bit at the idea, because no one would be stupid enough as to label illegal activities with their actual names. So she wouldn't find anything on the shelves.

Not knowing if she was relieved or more stressed out at this idea, she went back to her canvas and kept working on her painting, deciding that if she had lied to her boyfriend to go on a stupid errand, at least she could actually enjoy the beautiful light coming in from the garden. But painting didn't help, and half an hour later, she was back to exploring the shelves, this time actually picking up books and taking a look inside to see what she found. It was halfway through her second hour of skim-reading shipping statements from three years ago that she noticed something. All of the containers were identified with a serial number made of ten numbers and two letters. Every container was unique, even though she'd spotted some repetitions of numbers if the container was reutilized a few times, but it seemed to be rare. But then there was some containers who had the same initials in their serial numbers - CZ - and with always the same description: "shipment spoiled during journey. Filed for reconditioning."

Feyre took out the book where she noticed it and laid it on the desk before going back to her search, and then she started doing this with other files, until she had about ten books opened on the desk.

Looking at them, splayed out on the desk, Feyre felt her ears ringing. This couldn't be a coincidence. In only a few books, she'd found similarities that were rare enough to not be noticed, but too improbable to be nothing.

But it wasn't possible. Tamlin couldn't possibly know about drugs arriving in the country. He had to believe it was something else happening, just like she'd thought before Rhysand had told her about the deal. Granted, he'd also implied than Tamlin knew everything and just wasn't telling her, but then again, she didn't know Rhysand, and she knew Tamlin. She loved Tamlin, and she trusted that he was on the right side of the law all along. Yet she couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had been hiding something from her. She needed more information if she was to confront him about all this. She needed to look at his phone to see if she could discover more. If there was nothing on his phone, then that meant he didn't know about all this. So she needed to look at it and prove to herself that he didn't know anything.

She shut the book she was holding and put it back on the shelf, before turning back to the desk to put the others away. But she stopped moving around as she took in the man that was standing in the door frame, looking at her.

"What are you doing, Feyre?"

Tamlin's voice was quiet and soft, but she could feel the anger simmering underneath the surface. She'd seen Tamlin get angry often enough to know that one wrong move would land her in another one of the incidents, where he started to break things and she was left to clean it up. She needed to stay calm.

"Feyre, answer me. Now."

"I… Tam I just wanted to…"

"Don't try to lie to me, you know it doesn't work. Now tell me why you're going through the company's books."

There was no way out, literally and metaphorically. He wouldn't let her out of the study without getting a satisfying answer to his question. So she decided to go for it.

"The other day at the party I heard some… disturbing information. About what the company does. I wanted to get some confirmation that it was real or not before talking to you about it."

"What kind of information?"

"Something about the company importing… drugs into the country."

By the lack of shock on his face, she knew he'd known all along. And by the pain in her heart, she knew that until right now, she hadn't wanted to accept that he could be involved in this.

"Who told you that?"

She thought about Rhysand holding her wrist and the desperate look on his face as he asked her to keep his name out of it.

"No one in particular. I was just in the garden admiring the view when I heard two people discuss about the deal that was to be struck that night. I don't know who they were. I didn't want to believe it so I wanted to be sure before talking to you about it."

"And did you find what you were looking for?" the quiet of his voice was scarier than if he'd screamed, somehow.

"I found… I don't know what I found."

"Feyre you had no right to go through those papers." He advanced towards and she took a step back, but he didn't come to her, instead he went for the books and started shutting them close and putting them back on the shelves, meticulously, as if nothing bad had happened. But she could see the way his jaw was clenched, revealing the storm beneath. She should've shut up, but she needed to know.

"Tam, is it true? Is the company really involved in these sort of activities?"

He didn't look at her and kept on putting the books away. "It's none of your concern."

"Like hell it's not!" She was almost yelling now, unable to stay calm in front of his unnerving stillness. "It's illegal!"

He finally snapped, and threw the book he was holding on the ground before turning to her. His voice was like thunder. "I said this doesn't concern you, Feyre! I don't care how you heard about it, I don't care what you think of it, it's none of your business what happens in my company! I try to be a good and gentle boyfriend, I give you access to my private office so that you can paint with some light or whatever, and this is how you reward me? By going through my stuff and accusing me of illegal activities you don't know anything about?"

She hated it when he acted this way, but usually, she understood why he was angry at her. Not this time. This time, she knew she was in the right.

"You're not denying anything, though."

"I need to prove myself to you now?! This is such bullshit."

"You wouldn't have to _prove_ anything if you hadn't been lying to me. We've been together for six months, how can you hide something this big from me?!"

"Because this has nothing to do with you, with us. You're my girlfriend, you're not supposed to be bothered with things regarding my job!"

"Oh, so the fact that you're part of a crime organization that's importing illegal drugs into the country shouldn't bother me? I'm not supposed to be concerned about the fact that you could go to jail for what you do?!"

He actually laughed at that, but it was an angry laugh, matching the tone of his voice and the white of his knuckles. "Don't be so stupid, Feyre. I'm not going to jail, so stop overreacting, chill out and leave all of this _alone!_" On the last word, his fist connected with the wood of the table and she gasped. He was getting angrier by the second, and she knew he wouldn't calm down for a while when he was like this.

"Fine, I'll leave it alone," she whispered as she backed away towards the door, keeping her eyes on him. "Don't come into my room tonight."

* * *

He joined her in bed in the dead of night, snuggling quietly beside her, probably thinking that she was asleep. As if she could sleep after all that had happened between them.

"I told you I didn't want you to come."

"I'm not letting you kick me out of my own bed over some stupid little fight, Feyre."

She turned around to face him, and found him way closer that she'd thought he would be. She could feel her breath mixing with his as she answered.

"It's not a stupid fight, Tam. How could you hide this from me?"

He sighed. "You still want to talk about it."

"Yes. Obviously, yes. And I'm not going to apologize for being mad at discovering my boyfriend is a drug dealer."

"I'm not a drug dealer," he said with what could only be described as hurt in his voice.

"Then tell me what you are. Tell me what's going on."

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to be involved in all this. It's dangerous business and I need you to stay away from it. That's non-negotiable."

"I'm already involved, and there's nothing you can do about it now. I need to understand, Tam. What would get you to do something like that? You hate anything illegal and out of line."

"I didn't really have a choice. This is part of what my family does. It has been for more than thirty years. Plus, it's not really illegal. We're just importing products from another country, there's nothing wrong with it. I'm only involved in this part, I'm simply a paperpusher for all this, so just calm down."

He was telling her all this with such ease, as if it was normal that he was involved in international drug deals every other day. She was in such shock that she didn't respond for a while, only looked at him. They were in nearly complete darkness, the only faint ray of light coming from the stars outside, and showing his long blonde hair circling his face. She didn't know what to think of all this, her mind was racing back and forth between looking at this beautiful face she loved so much, while at the same time overthinking every horrible scenario she'd seen on TV about drug dealers. Associating the man she loved with these images was absurd, impossible, even.

"Tam, I need to know more, you can't leave me in the dark like that."

"I told you 'no', Feyre, will you let it go?"

She could hear the menace in his voice, but still she couldn't stop. She rose up on her elbow. "No, Tamlin, I won't. How can you act like this is not a big deal? Aren't you afraid I will leave you if you're involved in this?"

She knew the mention of leaving him had been too much the second it got out of her mouth. Tamlin got up on the bed and suddenly she was underneath him, both his arms on her shoulders, pinning her to the bed.

"Do not say things like that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I love you."

"Why is this so important to you? Or do you just want to hurt me?"

"Tam I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you. I just… I need answers."

"And I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" She knew he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, he was just trying to talk to her, but still the pressure of his hands on her shoulders had her fidgeting, she needed to get free before he left marks without wanting to. So she said what he wanted to hear.

"Yes, I can."

He released her shoulders after a few seconds of looking at her, and said: "Good. Now come here and kiss me."

His voice was so much softer, his smile so inviting, Feyre curled up closer and gave him a swift kiss to the lips. He was like that sometimes, a bit harsh with her when he wanted something, but she knew he didn't really mean to be rough. She knew he would always hold her in his arms afterwards, and remind her of the man she'd fallen in love with six months earlier. Her shoulders were still hurting a little, but cuddled against him, she knew he hadn't meant to be so hard on her. She relished his strong body around hers, and finally fell asleep, deciding that the whole drug thing could wait until another day.


	3. Chapter 3

Here's chapter three! I really hope you enjoy it :) As always, trigger warnings apply for this work, about **domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.**

Thank you for reading and commenting and sharing, it means the world :)

Thank you so much to my amazing beta-reader for this entire fic imaginemotherofdragons ! She knows a loooot of spoilers but I trust her not to get bribed ;)

* * *

A week had passed since her altercation with Tamlin, and Feyre hadn't had the courage to bring back up the subject with him. She'd gone twice to her job at the bakery, enjoying these afternoons away from home during which she could think more clearly while serving customers. But still, the half-knowledge of his illicit activities was eating her alive. She stayed awake at night, looking at him and thinking of the pattern she had found in the books. She didn't talk to him in the mornings, wondering if he was going to his normal job, or if he was about to do anything illegal. She couldn't focus on her paintings, too busy guessing how his family had gotten involved in all this.

Seated in front of an empty canvas for the fifth time in as many days, Feyre sighed and started putting away her brushes. She wouldn't be able to be creative with her brain working relentlessly on extravagant scenarios of drug deals in dark alleys going more insanely wrong with every passing second. Trying to chase the images out of her mind, she left the room Tamlin had given her for her paintings and went into the kitchen, hoping to find something to distract herself with. The house was quiet, nobody around but the maid upstairs. Starting the kettle, Feyre began to go through the mail, not expecting to find anything worthy of her attention. She was quickly proven wrong when she found a fancy envelope with her name on it. Inside was a card decorated with delicate flowers, and the text written on it was beautiful, inviting.

_**Save the Date**_

_Nesta ARCHERON & Cassian KNIGHT_

_happily invite you to celebrate with them_

_On their wedding day_

_Saturday, May 24th at 4 o'clock_

_The Lumni Inn_

_Elkridge, Velaris_

Feyre stared at the invitation for a long while, taking in the delicate words staring back at her. She picked up the envelope to unfold the second piece of paper in there, much less fancy than the actual invitation. The note was short, written in her oldest sister's handwriting.

_Feyre,_

_I know we haven't been in touch for the last couple of years, but Cassian and I are getting married next month, and I want you to be here. Call me before the 21st of this month to confirm if you'll come alone or with your boyfriend. Also, I need you to meet me at the dress shop on Fifth to try on your bridesmaid dress, we need to set a day._

_Call me,_

_Nesta._

She chuckled at the typical harsh style of her sister, demanding for her to be present without actually asking her. Obviously, Feyre wanted to be at her sister's wedding, but it was so typically Nesta to tell her in that way. She had barely seen her sisters in the years since they'd all moved out of their father's place, they kept in touch via text messages from time to time, and Feyre knew of Nesta's serious relationship with this Cassian, but she hadn't known of the engagement, and hadn't expected to receive a wedding invitation. Since the beginning of her relationship with Tamlin, she'd talked with them even less, letting time go by without keeping in touch, and now it had been six months since she'd even spoken with one of them. So it was no surprise that she might have missed some big news like Nesta getting engaged. Her oldest sister and her had never been really close or gotten along very well, at least not since the death of their mother when they were teens. She didn't really mind not seeing her sisters that much. Nesta was pursuing her career as a defence lawyer, and Elain was away most of the time, her job as an environmental scientist taking her all over the country for conferences. So when she had started to decline every invitation they sent to her, too busy with activities her then new boyfriend Tamlin arranged, they hadn't insisted very long, and neither had she.

And now Nesta was getting married. In a month and a half. Smiling at the invitation, Feyre went to her purse to get her phone out, and dialed her sister's number.

"Feyre!" It wasn't Nesta who answered.

"Hey Elain. I was trying to get Nesta."

"She's trying on her dress right now and it's getting a little… messy," Elain finished after a pause, and Feyre couldn't help her laugh.

"Yes, I can imagine." She knew how demanding Nesta could be, and she couldn't imagine how hard to please she would become during wedding preparations.

"Anyway, how are you?"

_My boyfriend has been lying to me, I don't know what to do about it, or with my life in general, and I can't talk to anyone about it so it's starting to consume me._

"Good. Nothing new, really."

"Are you still working at the little bakery downtown? I went there last weekend but you weren't there."

"Yes I still work there. It's just that I reduced my hours, I'm there on Mondays and Thursdays, in the afternoon."

"You cut back on your hours? Is… everything okay?"

"It is, it's just that Tamlin suggested I didn't really need a job with him supporting me, but I didn't want to quit entirely, so we compromised."

"Oh, okay. How are things with Tamlin?"

What were you supposed to say to your sort of estranged big sister when she asked you about your love life and you wanted to answer with '_I need to spy on him to find out more about his drug business"_? Feyre thought for a second before saying anything, and she settled for an effective technique: changing the subject.

"Everything's good. But I don't want to bore you with my domestic life. How are you? How is life on the road for your conferences treating you?"

It worked, and Elain dropped the subject of Tamlin to explain to her the perks of living in hotel rooms and meeting amazing people every week. Smiling, Feyre took her phone and the wedding invitation into the living room, settling on a chair. It felt good, hearing her sister's voice again, learning about her life, and her passion, listening to her being so excited about a project she was developing in the Amazon forest… As she sat there, talking with Elain, her feet swinging over the arm of the chair, Feyre felt a weight being taken off her chest. She didn't know how she had let so much time pass without talking to her. It had happened slowly, without any good reason, really. She'd had to cancel on her sisters a few times when she'd started dating Tamlin, because he'd kept on asking her out and she didn't want to disappoint him. Then they had moved in together, and they had been so busy with dinner parties, and romantic evenings, that she had just let time pass her by, and now, as she laughed at her sister's story about a guy who had tried to seduce her in Los Angeles, she was regretting it. Because she couldn't remember the last time they had talked that much. Or the last time she had called her friend Clare to check up on her new business. Or the last time she had done something, anything, that didn't have something to do with Tamlin, or his friends, or his family. She needed to catch up on her social life.

"... So then he invited me over to his casino in Vegas. And I was like 'Man, have you not realized I'm an environmental activist? Like I'm going to spend a weekend in the ecological catastrophe that is Las Vegas! So anyway, after that I… Feyre, Nesta is coming out of the fitting room. Oh, you look gorgeous, Nesta!"

Feyre heard her oldest sister mumble something about the pins holding the dress hurting her like hell, and she laughed. It might have been six months since she'd last talked to her sisters, but Nesta hadn't changed a bit.

"Elain, listen. I see you guys are busy. Can you tell Nesta I'll be at the wedding, and that she can just text me the date and time for the dress fitting on Fifth. Okay?"

"Sure, I'll tell her that once she's out of the dress. It was nice talking to you, Feyre!"

"You too, Elain. See you soon."

And then the world was quiet again, and the joyful attitude that had poured out of her sister's voice was gone.

Looking around her, she took in the piano nobody ever touched, the bookshelves filled with books she was the only one reading, and the perfectly arranged sofas around the large TV. She was alone again, with nothing to think about except her boyfriend, and his lies to her.

* * *

She heard a car stopping in front of the house in the dead of night, so she went to the window. Rhysand came out of the driver's seat, and went to open the door of the house. Tamlin came out of the car, surrounded by Bron and Hart, both men supporting him. They crossed the light of a street lamp, and she saw the red spreading across her boyfriend's face. Without thinking, without putting on anything on top of the light white nightgown she'd been wearing, she ran out of the bedroom to go downstairs. She got to the living room in time to see them laying him down on the sofa, and she was hurrying to him when she felt a strong arm come across her stomach.

"Feyre, don't worry, he's fine," she heard Rhysand say from beside her. "He took a bad hit to the head so we came home but he's gonna be fine."

"Let go of me."

"Feyre, he needs to rest and -"

"Let. Go."

He took back his arm and she jumped to the side of the sofa where her boyfriend was unconscious. The side of his forehead was open, and although it didn't seem too bad, he was bleeding a lot. She touched his lips and could feel he was breathing somewhat erratically.

"He passed out in the car," Bron said from behind her, "but he's fine, he just needs a few stitches. Do you have a med kit somewhere?" She didn't answer, her eyes solely on Tamlin and the blood on his head. She heard the men moving behind her, and then she felt the light touch of a hand on her shoulder.

"Feyre," Rhysand said softly, "I know the situation is upsetting, but I need you to help me if you want Tamlin to get better. Would you show me where you have a med kit?"

She turned away from Tamlin and found herself looking into calm, deep blue eyes, that were strangely soothing.

"It's in the upstairs bathroom," she said, still startled.

"Good. I'm going to come get it with you. Come on," he slid a hand under her elbow to help her up, and then they were leaving the living room, and going up the stairs. By the time they reached the bathroom door, Feyre had regained her senses, and was now moving in precise movements, determined to get the help Tamlin needed. She got the kit out of the cupboard and was about to head downstairs when Rhysand stopped her.

"I'll take it downstairs."

"I can do it."

"Oh, I know you can. It's just… well, no offense but you might want to put some clothes on before going back down."

She looked down on herself, finally realizing she was only wearing a very short, very revealing nightgown, that offered an extensive view of her bare legs, as well as her chest. She felt her cheeks starting to burn at the idea that she'd been half naked in front of her boyfriend's colleagues. And then she shuddered at the idea of what Tamlin would do if he learned she'd let them see her that way.

"Oh, I didn't realize…"

"It's okay, Feyre, don't worry about it." And, in a much lighter tone, he added with a wink, "I really didn't mind."

She gave him the most murderous look she could muster, and tossed him the kit before heading to her bedroom.

* * *

She came down a minute later, dressed in leggings and a sweater, and found Hart bent over Tamlin, and Rhysand leaning on the doorway, looking at them.

"Where's Bron?" She asked, coming to a stop beside him.

"He took the car away."

"Oh."

They stayed silent for a while, watching Hart working the needle. Finally, Feyre said:

"Tell me what happened."

He turned to her. "I can't tell you anything, I'm sorry."

"You don't get to be sorry, just tell me."

"No."

"Rhysand, my boyfriend is bleeding in our living room. I need to know what happened that got him there."

"You can ask _him_ directly when he wakes up. Hart is almost done."

"He..." she started, almost ashamed of what she was going to admit, "he won't tell me anything if I ask him. He doesn't want me to talk about… all this."

The expression on his face softened slightly, almost becoming pity, and it only made her more uncomfortable, because she didn't know what to do with what she saw in his eyes.

"We were handling a deal down by the docks, and a few members of another interested party got there before us, so it got a little heated and Tamlin got hurt. But as I told you, it's nothing too bad, he'll be fine."

"Wait. Tamlin was handling a deal?!"

"Yeah. Why?"

"When I asked him about all this, he told me… he said he wasn't doing any kind of real work like that, that he was simply a paperpusher."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry Feyre, but he lied to you."

"No, you must be mistaken, this was probably a one-time thing. He wouldn't lie to me like that."

"You mean, like he didn't lie to you for months before?"

"Don't be sarcastic. You can think what you want, but I know him. He wouldn't take inconsiderate risks."

"On that we agree, Darling. It wasn't supposed to be risky tonight. But I'm telling you, your boyfriend handles more than what you imagine."

Feyre didn't answer, unable to form a decent response to what Rhysand had told her. Instead, she turned back to Tamlin and Hart, only to find that her boyfriend was awake and watching her. She left Rhysand's side immediately and kneeled beside Tamlin's head.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Feyre, what are you doing here?"

"You're home. It's okay, Hart took care of you and you're fine now." She couldn't restrain her smile at seeing him awake.

"I know where I am. You should be upstairs, you have no business being down here." His tone was so hard and angry, she didn't know what to say for a minute.

"Tamlin, you're hurt, I wanted to help and -"

"I don't care what you wanted to do, I told you not to get involved in this and yet the first chance you get, you throw yourself into things that don't concern you."

"Tam, I saw the blood on your face through the window and I was worried about you. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter now, you got what you wanted. Now let me get up, Feyre."

Trying to stop her eyes from tearing up, Feyre moved out of the way and waited as Rhysand and Hart helped him get up. She didn't look at the men, ashamed of what they had just witnessed, regretting having come downstairs when she had seen them.

They all started going upstairs and getting to the bedroom, Tamlin supported by Rhys, as Hart stood behind them just in case. Both men helped him to the bedroom, and then they were leaving. Feyre sat beside her boyfriend on the bed, and took his hand slowly, hoping to gain his forgiveness.

"Feyre," Rhysand called from the door, and she looked at him, "take care of yourself."

Without adding anything more, he was gone, and she heard the front door closing a minute later, leaving her with Tamlin. She turned back towards him and found him staring at her.

"Tam, I'm sorry about -"

"What was that about?"

Taken aback, she didn't know what to say except: "What?"

"'_Take care of yourself'_? Why the hell would he tell you that? And why were you talking to him in the living room?"

"I - Tamlin, what are you saying?"

"I'm not _saying _anything. I'm just asking you what's going on. You saw this man like three times in two weeks, you barely said hello to him, and now he's telling you to _take care_? What's going on?"

"Nothing! Nothing is going on! I was asking him what had happened! And right now, I don't know what that was about, okay?" She could see his jaw clenching and his fist tightening. "Look Tam, you just went through something hard, you're tired and you need to rest. Why don't you try to calm down, take your clothes off, get into bed, and I'll make you a cup of tea, okay?"

He kept looking at her with narrow eyes for a long time before finally nodding, and she got up from the bed to go to the kitchen. She was at the door when he said:

"I love you, Feyre."

She turned back to him and smiled. "I love you too."

Downstairs, she watched the water boiling and thought back to what Rhysand had told her, about Tamlin lying to her and being much more involved than he'd let on, and as she poured the water into a mug, she started thinking of ways to confront him about his actions. She needed answers, and she would get them.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four is here, I hope you'll like it, Tamlin is NOT in this one ;) Still, there's mention of their relationship, not in a good way, so like the rest of the fic, trigger warnings apply for this work, about **domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse**.

Thank you for reading and commenting and sharing, it means the world :)

* * *

She shouldn't have come.

She knew it had been dangerous to follow him, but it seemed to be the only way to find out anything about his activities. Over the last two weeks, Feyre had tried every method to get her boyfriend to talk to her. Talking to him over breakfast had resulted in him skipping breakfast for four days, asking questions after sex had led to her being banished to the guest room for a week, and trying to sneak into his phone had gotten her favorite books thrown around in anger.

So she had decided to try another approach, and now there she was, buried as deep as she could be in the front seat of her car, all her lights out, looking at the front side of a warehouse from the Hybern company where Tamlin and four other people had entered two hours ago.

This had been so pointless, she shouldn't have come. What had she hoped to find? A warehouse with a sign that said "This is where your boyfriend handles drug deals?" She wasn't even sure that he was doing anything illegal. After all, he did work for the company, and he did have a real job that had him going around to warehouses and checking merchandise. She wouldn't learn anything by just sitting here.

She was about to persuade herself to get out of the car and go closer when the door of the building opened, and Rhysand came out, wearing the leather jacket he always wore, and a pair of jeans. He closed the door behind him and took out a phone. She watched him talking on the phone, trying to get what he was saying, hoping that it might shed light on what was going on. He was leaning on the door when she got the impression he was looking in her direction, and she tried to disappear into her car. She stayed down for maybe three minutes, her mind going into overdrive. He couldn't have seen her, it was starting to get dark outside and he was far away from the car. But what if he'd seen her? She needed to check to see if he was looking in her direction. She moved as slowly as she could, getting her head out just enough to check outside, and... There was no one there. He must have gone back in after his phone call. After all, a good five minutes had passed since she thought he'd seen her, so she must have imagined things. Relaxing a bit, Feyre straightened out in the seat and -

A knock on her passenger door.

She let out a shriek and turned, only to find Rhysand looking through the window, smirking. He opened the door and laughed.

"Hey Darling. Looking for something?"  
"Oh God, you scared me to death."

"Funny. I thought you were the one spying on people. Bit of advice: next time you want to stalk your boyfriend, try being a little more discreet, alright?"

She didn't answer, letting her heart come back to his normal pace. Rhysand laughed again and slid into the passenger seat. She turned to him as he was closing the door.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting in. Or do you want your little sneaking around to be even more obvious by letting me stand outside your car in an empty street?"

She sighed. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Oh, I think you do. What are you doing out here?"

"None of your business."

"But it is, Feyre. See, as I told you when we met, I'm in charge of the security of all the upcoming deals involving Hybern and your boyfriend's family. And I just found someone spying on one of said deals, so obviously, I should report it to all the parties involved. That includes your boyfriend. And I'm not so sure you want him to know you were here. What do you think?"

"You're a prick."

"Most certainly. But that statement doesn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

She could just lie, say she'd thought Tamlin was cheating on her, or that he had told her to come. But she wanted information. And if Tamlin didn't want to give it to her, maybe she could find someone else who did.

"I want to know how involved Tamlin is. I want to know what's going on in there, what his role in all of is. I want to know if he's actively involved in bad stuff or if he's trying to do something to stop it. I want to know if he's putting himself or others in danger."

Rhysand didn't say anything for a while, staring at her. Finally, when he opened his mouth, his voice was soft.

"Of course he's putting himself and others in danger. He's involved in one of the biggest drug networks of the East Coast, that doesn't come without a price. As for the rest, you should really speak to him about it."

"You don't think I've tried? He doesn't want to tell me anything! You know how I got him to talk, the first and _only _time we did? He caught me going through his papers and he got so angry that I had to tell him the truth, and we had what was maybe a five-minute conversation about it. Since then, nothing. I can't stay in the dark like this."

"How angry did he get?"

"What?"

"You said he got angry. How angry?"

"He - threw some books. That's not the point. I came here because I hoped I would find something that would help. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid, I get why you would want to know more. But Feyre, you can't just follow him around. These deals… In general, it's safe, but they can get very dangerous, very fast, and you shouldn't stay out here on your own."

"So what am I supposed to do? Say nothing? Stay home and wait for something bad to happen?"

Rhys sighed, ran a hand over his face, and said:

"Go home. I'll try to see what I can do about him talking to you, but you can't stay here. I don't think him knowing you were here will help your case."

He was right of course, she couldn't imagine how furious Tamlin would be if he ever learned she'd followed him. She was about to answer when someone else knocked on the window of the passenger seat, causing her to jump again. It was a woman, probably in her early forties, with bright red hair and dressed in a fancy pantsuit making her look like a businesswoman. Rhysand sighed at the sight of her and rolled down the window.

"What do you want, Sandy?"

"I'm done with the deal in there, so I was going back to the office when I saw you and I thought maybe you'd want to come home with me. Who's the chick?"

"I'm flattered, but still not interested. And she's no one."

"Hey!" Feyre couldn't help but protest, Rhys turned to her with a smile and whispered "Sorry Darling. She's not the kind of person you want knowing who you are," before turning back to the woman. "So anyway, good talking to you, have a nice day," he said as he started pulling the window up. But the women stared at Feyre and frowned.

"Hey, I know you. You're Atwell's girlfriend, aren't you?"

"No she's not, Sandy. She's a friend of mine."

She snorted. "Since when do you have friends, Morgan? And she _is _his girlfriend, I recognize her from that garden party last month. What is she doing here? Why are the two of you together?"

"Don't get any ideas, Tamlin sent me to stay with her here during the deal, and that's all there is to it. And I don't think your direct superior during this transaction would be inclined to forgive you snooping around his girlfriend. So go." His voice was calm, cold, almost scary if as he'd been talking to her. The woman - Sandy - gave her one last look before she nodded and moved away.

"I'll see you, Rhys. My offer always stands, you know," she said with a ravenous smile before walking away. Rhysand sighed and pulled the window all the way back up.

"What was that about?" Feyre asked.

"Oh, nothing. She's been wanting to get me into her bed for like six months now, but I'm not into her so..."

"Not _that_. I don't care about your sexlife! I meant, who is she? She knows Tamlin and she was in there."

"She's… a saleswoman. Of a sort. You know I can't tell you anything so stop prying and go home," he said as he got out of the car. And just as he was about to close the door, he added "try to stay out of trouble, Feyre."

She watched him walk back to the warehouse, and once he was inside, started her car and turned it around. She was driving towards the main road when she saw a redheaded businesswoman walking in the same direction. Without thinking too long about it, Feyre slowed down her car when she reached the woman and opened her window.

"Sandy, right?"

Sandy turned to watch her, then turned back towards the street and kept walking, but Feyre didn't quit, she continued driving slowly beside her.

"Sandy, please, I just have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"I have nothing to say to you."  
"Why?"

Finally, Sandy stopped walking, but she didn't look at Feyre.

"Rhysand made it pretty clear that I wasn't supposed to talk to you, and I really don't want to get on his bad side. So leave me alone."

"Look, I gather that you'd like for… something to happen between you and Rhysand, but I can be discreet, he doesn't have to know we talked. I can even talk you up to him the next time I see him, if you want."

Sandy actually laughed at that, and finally, she turned to face her. "You think I don't want to be on his bad side because I want to have sex with him? Girl, you're so clueless, it's laughable. You have no idea how dangerous he is, do you? You just hang out with him while your boyfriend is selling drugs, oblivious of anything bad happening. You have no idea what he does for Hybern Inc., you don't even know what _your boyfriend _does. No, I don't care if I get to sleep with him or not, I care about keeping my face intact."

And with that, she turned away. Feyre stood still for a second before she got out of the car and called after her.

"You're right. I don't know what my boyfriend does. And it scares me not to know. I need answers, and I need help to get them. Please."

Sandy stopped and turned to her. They stared at each other for a long time before she sighed and answered. "Alright, I'll talk to you. But not now, I have a meeting. Are you available on Friday?"

"Yes, absolutely. Where do you want to meet?"

"Give me your phone number, I'll text you."

A minute later, the redhead was crossing the street into a parking lot, and Feyre was back in her car, a satisfied smile on her face, heading home with finally something to look forward too. At last, she was going to get some answers.


	5. Chapter 5

Before anything else, I'm leaving for a two weeks-long hike tomorrow, so I won't be on Tumblr for that time, and I won't be writing much for this fic so that might delay the updates a little bit, not much because chapter 6 is almost ready, but I won't have access to a computer until at least the beginning of June. I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

As always in this fic, trigger warnings apply for this work, about **domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.**

Thank you for reading and commenting and sharing, it means the world :)

* * *

Even with the hot water of the shower running on her body and her boyfriend currently leaving a trail of kisses on her neck, Feyre kept thinking of the text she'd received an hour earlier. _7 pm, OakBridge park in The Rainbow._ The number was unknown, but she knew who it was. And she'd spent the last hour thinking of what to say to Tamlin to get him to agree to her going out alone. Now, as his hands were roaming her body and she could feel his desire growing with every passing second, seemed like the perfect time to get him to agree to anything, so she kept on washing herself, and said in the most casual voice she could muster:

"I'm going out tonight."

Tamlin's hands kept on moving on her stomach, but he stopped his kisses and said into her ear: "What? To do what? With who?"

"Oh, I'm meeting an old friend of mine. She's in town for just a few days and she suggested we get coffee."

"Who is this friend? Why have I never heard of her?"

"She's someone I knew from high school, so I never mentioned her before, she lives on the West Coast."

"Why didn't you tell me anything sooner?" He asked as his hands stopped moving too. Feyre turned to him and encircled his body with her arms.

"Well, she leaves so far away, and she's never in town, so I didn't think I would see her. And she wrote to me only this morning so I didn't know before now."

"Where are you going to meet?"

"In a coffee shop in The Rainbow. We used to spend our afternoons there when we were teens, so we thought it'd be fun. Anyway, I'll go meet her and we'll have dinner a bit later, what do you think?" She said as she gave him her most genuine smile.

He stared at her for a while before he started to nibble at her neck again. "Alright, but don't be out too late, okay?"

"Don't worry, I won't," Feyre answered, and she smiled as he started kissing his way down her body. She was finally going to get some answers.

* * *

It was 7:05 when she got to the bench in OakBridge park where the redhead was seated. She sat beside her, and was about to say hi when Sandy spoke.

"You're late."

"I know, I'm sorry, I…"

Sandy turned to her and cut her mid sentence: "I don't want excuses, I want you to be on time. I'm taking risks here. If Tamlin was to learn about what we were doing, I could lose my job with the company. Or worse."

"I'm truly sorry, Sandy."

Sandy sighed and fell back on the bench.

"It's fine. So, you're Tamlin's girl, huh?"

She hated that expression. "Yes, I'm his girlfriend."

"What do you know of his extracurricular activities?"

"Not much. I know that his father's company is involved. And I know that they've been working with Hybern Inc. for like the last couple of months or so. And I know that he has meetings by the docks, where their legal activities happen too. That's pretty much it."

Sandy looked at her for a while, before she exhaled and started talking.

"Oh honey, you don't know _anything_. Yes, your boyfriend's family is involved in drug dealing, and yes, they're working with Hybern Inc. But they have been working together for like ten years, it's nothing new. The only new thing is that they have a new supplier, so they need to work tighter schedules and be more careful around new people. That's why both companies have been working closer together. The meetings at the docks happen regularly, we go there and we check on the supplies, then we divide the goods, we register everything and we're on our way."

"Who are you in all this?"

"I work for Hybern Inc., I'm one of their top saleswomen."

"You mean… for the illegal stuff?"

Sandy let out a laugh. "You can say 'drugs' you know. And yes. Well, not only. I work for the company on legal contracts too, their food import business is thriving so not all my work is illegal, but yes, I'm also a saleswoman for 'illegal stuff' as you say."

Feyre looked at her, taking in her look one more time. This woman, with her dark blue pantsuit, her Chanel briefcase, her perfect makeup and her hair held tight in a low bun, was a drug dealer. She was the opposite of the image Feyre had in mind, of a white trash junkie selling drugs out of a dark alley. Those ones existed too, right? She knew so little of any of this, she actually understood why Sandy was laughing at her.

"Do you… Have you been involved in this for a long time?"

"Nearly fifteen years. But you don't care about me so stop asking questions that waste both our time, and get to the point."

"What do you know about Tamlin's activities? What does he do exactly?"

"From what I've seen since I started working more closely with him the last year or so, he handles most of the field work for his father. He checks on the shipments, handles the fair division of the goods between salespeople, since we all work on commission, from his company and Hybern Inc. and registers every transaction. Basically, that's what he does for his real job, and he just does it again for the drugs."

She spoke with such casualness about all this, Feyre almost felt dizzy at all this new information about Tamlin. He had lied to her on so many levels, she didn't dare to count them anymore. And she couldn't even talk to him about it, he would cut her off the second she'd mention it. Sandy's voice brought her back to reality.

"Look, I'm sorry if this is a lot to take in, but I can't stay long so if you have other questions, it's now or never, honey."

"I … No, not really."

"Good. I'll go, then," she said as she got up from the bench and left without another word. Feyre watched her leave towards the entrance of the park, but she stayed on the bench for a while longer, thinking about what she'd just learned. Maybe she should stop digging around for more information. It didn't bring her anything, anyway. She had trusted Tamlin completely before she'd learned of all this, and she missed that quiet time. She started wishing she could go back to a time before the garden party, before her conversation with Rhysand. But was it really what she wished for? Tamlin had lied to her for so long, and maybe she had been wrong to trust him so unconditionally. Because the only difference between now and before the garden party, was that she at least knew the truth. Now the question was: what did she want to do with said truth?

She got up from the bench and started walking away from it and to the exit. As she approached the flowery arch of the entrance, she saw two shadows standing under it. One was a tall brown-haired man, and the other was a short woman in her early forties wearing a dark blue pantsuit. Sandy. Just as Feyre wondered what she was still doing here, she recognized the man beside her, and her blood froze in her veins. Hart. One of Tamlin's security guards. She stopped a good 20 feet from them, but it was too late.

"Hello Miss Archeron. If you don't mind, your boyfriend would like to see you."

* * *

"So, coffee with an old friend, right?"

Tamlin was sitting behind his desk, looking at his computer, the absolute picture of calm. But Feyre knew him well enough to know he was anything but calm.

Hart had led Feyre and Sandy to a car where she had found Rhysand behind the wheel, and they'd driven back to her house. Tamlin had been waiting by the front door, and without acknowledging Feyre for even a second, he'd ordered Sandy into his office, and Rhys and Hart to stay with her in the living room. He'd been with Sandy for more than fifteen minutes before she'd come out crying.

And now Feyre was the one seated in the office, staring at her boyfriend, his voice colder than she'd ever heard it.

"I asked you a question. I'm waiting for an answer."

"You had me followed," she said in a soft voice, knowing it was a mistake to bring it up, but needing to do it nonetheless. He immediately got up from his chair and slammed both hands on the desk.

"Are you seriously going to bring this up right now?" He yelled. "Do you really think it's wise to start an argument with me, Feyre?"

She stayed seated in her chair but she didn't back down.

"Well, I'm sorry but since when are you having me followed?"

"It's none of your concern! And I was right to do it! You lied to me!"

"And _you _didn't lie to me?! You _refused _to give me answers to my perfectly legitimate questions and -"  
"Shut up!" He cut her off and she jumped in fright. "I told you I didn't want you involved in this, and yet you keep on disobeying me! How am I supposed to trust you in these conditions?!"

"Trust me? You clearly don't trust me, Tam, you're having me _followed!_"

"I didn't know this person you were supposed to meet, I was protecting you!"

"Protecting me? How is having one of your thugs following me protection? Why don't you just admit that you were jealous of the very idea that I dared to have people in my life that you don't know about?"

He let out a bitter laugh at that, but he didn't seem any calmer when he resumed talking. "You know why I had you followed? Because I know you don't have any friends outside of mine. I couldn't believe that you were meeting a friend because you never go out to meet anyone." As he was talking, his tone became less angry, and his voice became tainted with disdain, as if he was mocking her. "I have to take you with me to meet my friends when I go out, because I know that you have no friends to meet with. How about the next time you want to lie to me, you make up a less pathetic story than 'meeting a friend', huh?" He was almost laughing now, and Feyre felt the familiar sensation of shame coursing through her. Because he was right, of course. She didn't have friends, why had she thought meeting a friend would be a good excuse? Of course he'd seen right through it and known it was a lie. She should have never tried to go behind his back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Tamlin came around from behind his desk and kneeled beside her. When she found the courage to look him in the eyes, she didn't find anger there, in fact he was smiling at her, a small, content smile.

"It's ok, Doll. I forgive you," he said in a sweet, soft voice, "and I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm just worried about you, especially when you pry around my affairs with this job. It's too dangerous for you to know anything about it. But it's fine now," he finished as he took her face between his hands and kissed her. She felt her muscles relaxing at the thought of their argument being over, and she kissed him back, letting herself relish the warmth of his body against her. He stepped back after a few seconds.

"I need to speak with Rhysand now. Would you step out and tell him to wait outside for me to call him in?"

She nodded and he kissed her once more before going back to his chair. Feyre got up and went to the door of the office. She found Rhysand right outside, and when she looked towards the front door, she saw Hart outside, smoking a cigarette. She closed the door to the office.

"Tamlin wants to talk to you, he asked that you wait here," she blurted out, eager to get to the kitchen and make herself some tea. But Rhysand wasn't ready to let her go.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? I heard him yelling."

"I was wrong to do what I did. He was right to be angry," she answered, averting her eyes. Just because the brawl between her and Tamlin had been justified, didn't mean she had wanted a stranger to hear them.

"You shouldn't let him talk to you that way, Feyre."

"It's none of your concern how my boyfriend talks to me. You're a colleague of his, and I'd rather you stay away from our relationship, thank you very much."

"Feyre, I didn't want to offend you. But the way he talks to you, it's -"

He was interrupted by the sound of his name coming from Tamlin's office, so he sighed and went in, leaving her alone in the hallway. She was about to leave when she realized she could hear what they were saying in the office. She looked outside and saw Hart still busy with his cigarette, so she didn't move. After all, she wasn't disobeying, he'd told her to step out, not to leave. Tamlin was speaking, his voice composed again.

"I spoke with Sandy. I need you to set up a meeting with your boss as soon as possible."

"You want to reduce her share of product?"

"I want her to leave this operation completely. My family always trusted Hybern Inc. in all the transactions we had together, but clearly, there are people in your team I can't trust. This new supplier we're working with was a huge risk on my part, and I won't have unreliable people around me."

"Tamlin, I understand that what happened was bad, but Sandy has been working with Hybern Inc. for nearly fifteen years, she was always very reliable and -"

"Well clearly, she's not anymore."

"She made a mistake, but I don't know if it's a good idea to involve Mr. Hybern. You know how he usually deals with people that disappoint him."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, Rhysand. You're on this operation as a representative for your boss, and now I'm asking to see him personally. And honestly, seeing as you're already on thin ice with me, I would suggest you stay in line."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Tamlin lowered his voice at that moment but she heard him say her name. She was about to lean closer to the door when a sudden racket at the front door surprised her. She moved away from the office in time to let Tamlin get out without seeing that she was still there. Rhysand came out after him, and he looked at her, but he didn't say anything and turned around towards the entrance.

The noise at the door was Hart, trying to stop Sandy from coming inside. Except that Sandy wasn't the woman who'd gone out half an hour earlier. She seemed very upset, almost violent in the way she was trying to push Hart out of the path to get in.

"What the hell is going on?" Tamlin asked, getting to the door first. Hart was about to answer but Sandy pushed him away, and as she looked at Tamlin, Feyre got a pretty clear view of her eyes. The light blue of her irises was nearly gone, her pupils dilated almost entirely, and the whites of her eyes were almost completely red.

"She took something," Rhys said from beside her, "stay back," and then he was actually pushing her back into the living room and joining the others at the door. But after only a few seconds, the sound of yelling grew closer, and Rhysand, Tamlin and Hart came through the living room, apparently backing away from a very upset Sandy, who saw Feyre and pointed at her.

"YOU! It's all your fault! _You're _the one who asked me to meet you, _you're _the one who wanted to know what was going on! Now I'm losing my biggest source of income because of you!"

"Back off, Sandy!" Tamlin yelled back at her, his fists clenched as if he was going to punch her. "You brought this on yourself! There aren't a lot of rules in this business: Don't talk to anyone about it, and don't take any of the product. You'd already broken one rule today, and clearly, you're completely high! Now consider yourself lucky that I don't call Hybern right away and tell him that I have his stoner of a dealer in my house!"

"You can't do this to me! I've been in this business since before you smoked your first joint, boy!"

"And clearly, you're not that good at it. Now get the hell out of my house."

"If you want me out, you're gonna need to throw me out! And you know what I'll do once I'm out of here? I'll go to the cops about your little business!" The room seemed to stop at those words, and Sandy smiled. "That's right, I've been working with your father for nearly ten years, longer with Hybern Inc. I have enough information on every deal that went down to put you and your whole family away for a long time."

Tamlin took in a long breath and seemed to have calmed down, although Feyre knew it was only a facade. "Sandy, don't do anything stupid. How about we talk about it in my office. I'm sure we can find a suitable amount of -"

"Money? I don't care about money, boy, I have enough money to live under the sun until I die. I care about respect! I'm going to go to the cops, strike a sweet, sweet deal, and then when your trial happens, I will make sure to be present at every single hearing you -"

She never finished her sentence. Instead, her face went from jubilation to surprise, as the red spread on her forehead. It only lasted a half second, but an eternity seemed to go by before she fell to the floor. Feyre looked at Sandy's body as it came to rest on the ground. Nothing else happened in that first second, and only when the blood started spreading on the rug, did Feyre start screaming.


	6. Chapter 6

I know you're eager to read this one so I'll stay quick! My hike was wonderful but just exhausting, I didn't get much sleep the last few days so I'm still super tired, so I apologize in advance if there are more mistakes than usual, I didn't as well as I usually do! I really really love this chapter so I hope you like it too!

As always in this fic, trigger warnings apply for this work, **about domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.**

* * *

She didn't see Hart throwing the gun and the silencer on the floor. She didn't hear when Tamlin started yelling at Hart about how stupid he'd just been and how they could have paid her off, she didn't register as Rhysand came between both men to try and tell them to stop yelling. She only saw the blood spreading, a pool of red getting bigger and bigger on the carpet.

"We need to help her," she whispered, and only at the sound of her own hoarse voice did she realize she had stopped screaming. None of the men in the room heard her, but she really didn't care. She couldn't take her eyes off the body, the ginger hair mixing in with the blood, the shades of red like a crown around Sandy's head. Her eyes were still open in an expression of surprise.

Feyre took a step towards her, her mind still somewhat unaware of anything happening around her. She didn't hear as Tamlin yelled at her to get the hell away, she just took another step forward. A second later, she was on her knees, her dress starting to get soaked in the pool of red, her hands around Sandy's head as she tried to wake her up. She wasn't breathing right, she couldn't remember how to breathe anymore, she just knew she needed to help Sandy. But then there were large hands on her shoulders, and someone was calling her name. She knew the voice, but she didn't look away from Sandy's unmoving eyes, she didn't move her hands away from the sides of her face, because maybe if she stayed with Sandy, the blood would go back inside her body. But the voice wouldn't stop talking. There were other voices in the room, too. There were two voices yelling at each other in the distance, speaking on top of each other without seeming to stop. And then there was a quiet voice, a soothing voice, just beside her, saying her name over and over again. That voice slowly made its way into her head.

"Feyre, Feyre please can you look at me? Feyre, I know it's hard but you need to stop looking at her. Look at me instead, alright? Feyre. You don't have to move, just turn your eyes to me."

The voice kept on saying her name, and then she found herself tearing her eyes away to look at the voice. She found deep blue eyes where the voice came from, and those eyes were alive, they were full of life, and it was reassuring to find something alive in the world again. Air entered her lungs as she took in Rhysand crouching beside her, his hands on her shoulders. But then the air was too much, she was breathing too fast, and she felt that her hands were wet.

"We need to help her," she let out between two breaths.

"Feyre, I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do to help her. She's gone."

"No, she can't be … We need to call for help."

"It's too late. I'm so sorry, but she's dead," and there was true pain in his eyes, true enough to make Feyre realize he wasn't lying to her.

"She's… she's dead," she let out in a breath, trying to process the situation.

"Yes, she is. Now, please Feyre, try to calm your breathing, okay? I'm going to need you to step away from her."

Feyre turned back to Sandy, and realized she had soaked her hands and legs in blood. She yanked her hands back and was about to crawl away when Rhysand caught her wrists.

"Just… I know it's hard but… you're covered in blood, try not to touch too many things, okay?"

She nodded, and the rest of the room started to slowly come into focus. There was a gun on the floor, not too far away from her. And beside the gun, Tamlin and Hart were still arguing, not sparing one look in the direction of the body, in her direction. Her wrists still held gently in Rhysand's hands, she tried to calm her breathing and to listen to what her boyfriend was saying.

"I don't care what you thought, Hart. You _killed _her. In my house, in front of my girlfriend. If you think there won't be consequences for this, you're wrong!"

"I was doing you a favor!"  
"A favor?! Get the hell out of here!" She had never seen Tamlin this angry before, and it scared her.

"Nobody is leaving the scene," Rhys said, his voice calm but authoritarian. Miles away from the soothing tone he had used a second earlier with her, and yet he was still stroking her wrists between his fingers, somehow the only thing keeping her from crying. "Nobody leaves until we decide what to do."

"There's not much to do," Hart said, his tone even, as if he hadn't just killed a woman. "We need to get rid of the body and the evidence."

Rhysand tore his eyes away from Feyre to look at Hart and Tamlin. "We're not getting rid of her. She has a kid, she can't just disappear."

"We need to call the police," Feyre said, looking at Tamlin. "We need to call them right now and -"

"Feyre, shut the fuck up," Tamlin said without looking at her, his harsh cold voice making her tears rise again. "Don't you get involved in this with your righteous ideas, or I swear to God I will make you regret this day and -"

"Hey!" Rhysand interrupted. "Read the room, man. She's having a panic attack, so why don't you try and calm her down instead of threatening her, huh?"

"How I chose to deal with her is none of your business, Morgan. Or do you agree with calling the police?"

"We're not calling the police!" Hart yelled. "I'm gonna get rid of the body and be done with this mess."

"I said 'no'," Rhysand repeated. "We're not making her disappear to cover up your crime, Hart."

"Do you have a better idea? Because I'm not going to jail!"

Rhysand sighed, and Feyre saw him take in the scene, from the gun on the floor, to Hart and Tamlin with their fists clenched, to Feyre herself, where his eyes lingered a second longer than the rest. Finally, he spoke. "We're going to move her, and the gun. Away from here, but in a place where she'll be found in the morning."

Tamlin stared at Rhysand as if he was going to protest, but the power had shifted in the room the second the words had come out of Rhysand's mouth, and Tamlin simply said:

"What do we do?"

"Tamlin, I want you to find something to erase prints with. We need to erase all evidence from her body that Feyre touched her. I'll do the same with the gun. Hart, you'll help us move the body and clean here afterwards." He turned to her, and his voice was soothing again. "Feyre, I need you to go to your bathroom, take off your clothes, clean your legs and hands. Then I need you to wait in the bathroom for us. Can you do that?"

There was faith in his eyes, faith that she could do it. "I can," she answered, and he gave her a smile.

"Good, that's really good. Go upstairs, try not to touch anything unnecessary on your way up. We'll clean up whatever you absolutely need to touch. Now, go."

* * *

She was in such a mess. She heard the men downstairs move something heavy, she heard the front door opening, and minutes later, she heard a car taking off. All the while, she was running her hands under the water, scrubbing as hard as she could to get the blood off her skin. But for as hard as she scratched, the water going down on the sink always seemed to be as red as it was at first. With every drop of red water going down the drain, she kept seeing the carpet of the living room, soaked under her knees. And with every movement of the soap on her hands, she only pictured Sandy's eyes, injected with blood from the drugs, staring blankly at her.

It was all _his _fault.

If Rhysand had just kept his mouth shut about Tamlin's activities, she would have never found out about it, and she wouldn't be scrubbing blood from under her fingernails at the moment. Rhysand was the one to blame for all of this, because he had been the one to tell her the truth, a truth that had forced her to investigate, forced her to get in contact with Sandy. If he'd just kept his mouth shut, she would probably be attending another dinner party, enjoying a margarita or a mojito in the living room of one of their friend's houses. She looked down at the light blue summer dress she was wearing that Tamlin had bought her the week before. She would probably be wearing this very dress at the dinner party. Instead of attending dinner parties, she was washing her hands to get rid of an innocent woman's blood, a woman that would probably never get the justice she deserved.

It was all his fault.

Except … It wasn't.

It was her fault.

_She _had been the one prying around for weeks, even though Tamlin had forbidden her to do so, even after Rhysand had asked her to be careful about it. _She _had been the one insisting with Sandy, begging her to help her. She was the _only _person responsible for Sandy's death. Hart might have pulled the trigger, but _she _was the one that had led that poor woman to her death. And now they were going to dump her body somewhere, her face free of any trace of Feyre, the gun with all and every fingerprint erased. Sandy would lay there, alone, waiting for someone to find her and do the right thing by calling the police. But even when the police would get there, they wouldn't be able to understand what had happened, why this big shot businesswoman had been found in a dark alley, shot in the head, her body full of drugs. And Sandy would become a cold case, a forgotten woman. All because of her.

It was all _her _fault.

She heard the car stopping in front of the house, and the front door opening again. As she kept washing her fingers, the water still running red, she heard the three men come in and talk. Quietly enough at first, but then Tamlin's voice rose above the others.

"Like hell I'm staying calm, Rhys! She needs to understand that she has to stay quiet about all this and ..."

"Not tonight, she doesn't!" Rhysand said in an equally strong voice, "She's traumatized, she just saw someone die! Now, either you can stay calm and be of help to the woman you love, or you stay down here, and clean up your living room!"

There was more mumbling, and then someone coming up the stairs and inside the bedroom. She was surprised that Tamlin knocked on the door of the bathroom, but then -

"Feyre," Rhysand said from outside the bathroom, "are you ok? Can I come in?"

"Rhysand!? Where's Tamlin? What's going on?"

"He … needed to cool off for a bit. He's cleaning up downstairs. Can I come in? Are you … decent?"

She didn't want to think of the implication that Tamlin wanted to yell at her. Because he was right, it was her fault and he was correct to be mad. But she couldn't dwell on this right now, so she just answered.

"You can come in, I'm not done yet."

The door opened and Rhysand entered. He stood by the door and looked at her.

"Feyre, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get the blood out, I wanted to finish with my hands before I wash my legs. But I can't get all the blood to wash away."

He took a step towards her. "Feyre, your hands are clean."

She looked at him, and he was staring at her hands, still under the water. He must have seen the confusion on her face, because he nodded towards her hands. She looked down, and -

The running water was clear. There was no blood mixing with it anymore, and her hands were completely normal, not one trace of red under her fingernails. She couldn't take her eyes off it. How long had she been scrubbing her skin for nothing?

"Feyre, maybe you should clean your legs now."

Right. Her legs, all the way up to her knees, were still covered in blood. She looked at them, her hands clenching the side of the sink, and then tears started to run down her face.

"I can't do it. I can't start all over again," she said between her sobs, and the realization that she couldn't wash Sandy's blood off of her hit her. She couldn't erase every trace of the woman as if she had been nothing. What was she supposed to do, just forget tonight had happened?

"I understand," Rhys said, and he advanced towards her. "Sit down on the side of the bathtub, will you?"

She didn't think twice about it. She wasn't sure she had the energy to think anymore, so she did what he asked and sat down. Rhys grabbed a laundry basin which he filled with water, and a clean sponge from the cleaning supplies, and he laid it all down beside her feet. He then kneeled in front of her, and removed the espadrilles she'd been wearing. Once the shoes were out of the way, he took off his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and plunged the sponge into the water. He lifted the dress slightly to get it off her knees, and he started stroking her legs with the sponge.

They didn't say a word, the only sound in the bathroom the splash of the water when he plunged the sponge inside the basin again. Soon, the water was completely red, and he got up to change it, but Feyre didn't move. She just let tears roll down her cheeks, she let him wash away what she couldn't. He changed the water in the basin another time before he spoke again.

"It's not your fault. What happened tonight. None of it is your fault."

For the first time since he'd made her sit, she looked down at him, taking in his black hair, and the fact that she could see hints of a tattoo peeking out of his collar. She huffed a breath that might have been a small laugh.

"You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm the one responsible for all this."

"I'm not lying to you," he said, wringing the sponge into the basin, "what happened was a terrible error of judgement by an already riled-up man who had been looking for a fight all day."

"I'm the one who brought her to the house."

He stopped at that, his hand motionless on her knee. "You're not. Sandy could have chosen not to help you. She could have chosen to walk away from you, or she could have chosen not to meet you at the park. She could have stayed away from the drug that rendered her frantic enough to come back tonight. She could have chosen not to threaten them about going to the cops. It's not your fault that she was in this house tonight, do you hear me?"

"But Tamlin took her job away because of me, and I heard him say to you that it was my fault."

"Don't get me started on Tamlin. He could have chosen a fairer punishment for what she'd done. Even better, he could have chosen not to lie to the woman he's supposedly in love with, and avoided all of this."

"But still, all of you went and moved everything, erased everything. Now Sandy will never have a chance at justice because of us. Because of me."

"I did what I had to do in the given circumstances, Feyre. Trust me when I tell you that every decision I took tonight was well thought out, and the best I could do for Sandy."

"But you erased the evidence. You erased the fingerprints from the gun."

"I got rid of what I had to get rid of. Sandy's body will be discovered tomorrow, and she will be given back to her family. It's the best I could do for now. And her death is not your fault, Feyre. Okay?"

He stared right into her eyes, and after a few seconds, Feyre nodded, and Rhys resumed his movements on her leg. Another basin of clear water later, he let the sponge fall into the water and got up from his knees.

"Alright, now I'm going to need you to give me your dress."

"Can you take my shoes and my … and my underwear, too? I don't think I can look at them anymore."

"Sure. Where do I find clean clothes for you?"

"I can go get them."

"Your dress is still dirty, it's better if you only stay in one spot. Easier to clean up."

"Oh. My underwear are in the top drawer of my dresser, I only need underpants. And then there are leggings and tank tops in the second drawer."

"Alright."

He left the bathroom, and Feyre felt his absence strongly, as if all the warmth had gone with him, and she shivered suddenly. But Rhys wasn't gone long, he came back a minute later with her clothes.

"I saw this sweater on top of the dresser and I thought you might want it. And here are the leggings, the tank top and the underpants. You have some very flimsy stuff in that drawer, Darling," he added with a wink, a clear attempt to take her mind off the events of the night. Strangely, it worked for a half-second, she rolled her eyes at him and yanked the clothes out of his hands, and he gave her a smile before getting out. Feyre got up, took out everything she'd been wearing and put it into the laundry basin along with the sponge and her shoes - she was never going to touch any of this again. Moments later, she was in clean leggings and a warm sweater.

"I'm done," she declared, hoping Rhys was still waiting outside the door. He came in and grabbed the basin, then said:

"I'm going to have to wash the bathroom now. Why don't you go to bed, try and get some rest. Tamlin and Hart are almost done down there, and I only have to clean up a bit in here, and then we'll be out of your sight. I'm sure Tamlin will be happy to come in and stay with you as soon as he can."

She didn't deem it necessary to state the obvious: that they both knew Tamlin was still angry, and that if he came into the room right now, he would only yell at her some more. Rhys might know Tamlin, but he wasn't privy to their life as a couple, and she wanted it to stay that way. So she simply nodded and went to the door. When she was about to leave the bathroom, she turned back to watch him, standing there with a basin full of her clothes, and she said:

"Thank you, Rhys."

"You're welcome, Darling. Now try and get some sleep."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 is here. Just a head's up for people not following me on Tumblr, I'm participating in camp nano in July, so I won't be updating this fic during that month. I'll try to update before I start at the end of June, but I can't guarantee anything so I wanted to warn you!

As always in this fic, trigger warnings apply for this work, about **domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.**

* * *

Feyre didn't sleep that night. Rhys stayed in her bathroom for about thirty minutes after she'd gone to bed, and then she heard him go downstairs, and the three men stayed for what was maybe two hours more, moving stuff around, getting rid of some furniture and moving some of the rest. She heard the front door close long after midnight, and Tamlin came into the bedroom at last. He took a quick shower and slid into bed beside her, but he didn't talk to her, or hugged her, or even checked if she was sleeping. He just went to bed.

Everytime she closed her eyes, she kept reliving the whole scene in the living room, the way Sandy had been screaming just seconds before Hart's shot, the way she'd fallen to the ground, from yelling to lifeless in less than a second. She went to the bathroom twice that night, the image of Sandy's dead eyes chasing her away from the warmth of her bed only to puke her guts out.

It seemed like the next morning would never arrive, so finally, Feyre got up and went downstairs. Maybe making herself a cup of tea would help her relax, if not actually sleep. Her mug in her hands, she was about to head back upstairs, but she dared a glance into the living room first. The carpet was gone, the hardwood floor underneath was shining as if it was brand new, and some chairs had been moved around. Feyre went in, took a sit in the armchair nearest to where the carpet had been, and started drinking her tea. She couldn't look away from the floor. It didn't matter that the blood was gone, because for all that the night had been a blur, she seemed to remember exactly what the stain of blood had looked like. She could see it, she could see the stain on the wood, even without Sandy's body, even without the carpet, even without the blood.

She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, staring at the floor, when she heard Tamlin come down the stairs. He passed in front of the living room door, and didn't stop, but she saw him come back a second later.

"Feyre? I thought you would be in your painting room," he said as he advanced towards her. "You shouldn't stay in here, it won't help you." He sat on the arm of her chair, and enveloped her shoulders with an arm. Feyre leaned into him but didn't turn to look at him.

"I can't look away, Tam. I _see _it. I see the blood. I see her."

He bent down to kiss her forehead and whispered: "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday, Doll. I'm truly sorry you were there."

Finally, she turned her head to his and gave him a small smile. It was rare to hear Tamlin apologize to her. Very rare. "It's okay, Tam, you weren't well either," she said as she brought her hand to his cheek, "I'm the one who should apologize for the way I acted."

"It was normal for you to feel bad, I realize now. I wish I could've helped you more."

"It's fine, Tam, really. Rhys helped me wash up and he calmed me enough for me to stop crying. I understand that you weren't well enough to help me, don't worry."  
His jaw had clenched at the mention of Rhys, and he said: "He helped you wash up?"

"Yes, he helped me finish cleaning the blood off and he talked to me for a bit." She didn't mention that Rhys had washed her entire legs, she didn't mention the way his hands had been gentle when he'd taken off her shoes, or how the soft brushes of his fingers on her calves had kept her from breaking down completely. She loved Tamlin, but she wasn't crazy enough to think he would be okay with another man touching her in such an intimate way, even if it hadn't meant anything, even if Rhysand had just been supportive when she was about to have another panic attack.

She didn't mention all this, and yet Tamlin started frowning, so she said:

"Tam, he just helped me in a tough moment."

"I should have been there for you, not him."

"It's fine, I understand. You were angry, you needed space, I totally get that, Tam."

"Still, when you needed me, I let another man take care of you. That's not okay."

"I'm fine, Tam. We're fine."

He took a breath and let a minute go by, before -

"Okay. We're fine."

"We are."

"Good."

He kissed her once more and went to the kitchen. Feyre got up and followed him. He was making a pot of coffee when she came in.

"Tam?"

"Mmh?"

"Do you think - do you think someone found her already?"

He turned to her.

"What?"

"Sandy. Do you think someone found her and called the police? Do you think they took care of calling her family? Rhys said she had a kid and -"

"Feyre, you shouldn't bother your thoughts with all this. It's been taken care of, Hart won't risk anything anymore. Just try to forget it happened," he finished, passing beside her and going into the living room to turn on the TV. Feyre didn't move for a while, watching him drink his coffee in front of the news, as if nothing had happened indeed. She shook herself and went to him.

"Tam, how can you be so chill about it?"

He sighed. "What do you want me to do, Feyre? I didn't kill the woman, she was hysterical and Hart panicked. We took care of it, and now we're out of the woods."

"Well… maybe you could act like you care about the fact that an innocent woman died less than three feet away from where you're drinking your coffee?!"

"Feyre, come here." She stayed where she was. "Come here. Now." She went to him and he made her sit down beside him on the couch. "Let me explain some things to you. First of all, Sandy was not an innocent woman, she stopped being innocent years ago, you can trust me on that. Second, I didn't kill her, it wasn't my fault that she died, Hart was the one who went a little crazy. Am I sad that it happened? Yes. Do I wish that she was still alive? Yes. But am I going to lose sleep over it? No. And more important than all that, Feyre, is keeping up appearances."

"Appearances?"

"Yes. We took care of her, the police won't be able to know that Hart or any of us were involved. But even so, we need to be careful. You can't go around talking to me about the woman that died here, you can't say her name, you can't ask me if the police found her body. It's important to keep up appearances."

"But why? You said the police wouldn't trace her back here, so why should we ignore it completely?"

"It's not healthy to dwell on it, Feyre. It won't do you any good, trust me. Now come here," he finished, pulling her against him in a tight embrace, "let's watch a movie together, what do you think?"

She didn't answer, and he put a movie on. She barely registered what it was about, her mind too focused on the floor of the living room. She didn't care to respond when Tamlin started to kiss his way down her neck and let his hands roam under her sweater. And when they made love on the couch, the movie forgotten even by Tamlin, Feyre didn't hear the sweet nothings he murmured into her ear. She only heard one word again and again: _murderer_.

* * *

The following week didn't go any better. Feyre spent almost the entirety of her time tucked in bed, dozing on and off, having nightmares of dead eyes chasing her every time she managed to fall asleep for more than five minutes. When she wasn't in bed, she was sitting in the living room, staring at the new rug for hours, no real thought crossing her mind. She barely ate all week, not feeling the will to enjoy the food Tamlin proposed to her. What she forced herself to eat rarely stayed down, and she found herself puking almost every night. On Monday, she canceled her shift at work, unable to come out of the house. On Wednesday, Tamlin suggested she try painting to take her mind off things, but she stared at a blank canvas for an hour before she burst into tears and went to bed again.

Tamlin went back to work on Monday, he came home at night, and did it again the next day, and the next day again. He was worried about her, and asked what he could do to help her get better, but when she suggested talking about the murder, he became shut off, and didn't ask her what was wrong again.

Feyre kept thinking of Sandy's hair. She saw the way Sandy had played with it when she'd been talking to Rhysand that first day, trying to seduce him. She saw the tight bun in which they were stuck when they'd met at the park. She saw the mess they were in when she'd come back to the house, high on drugs and frantic. In general, the imagery ended with the way her bright beautiful hair had melted in with the blood, creating a gorgeous palette of red on the floor.

She didn't realize Friday had arrived, so she was startled when her phone rang, showing her sister's number. She let it ring until it reached voicemail, but Nesta called again. And again. The fourth time, Feyre sighed and picked up the phone.

"Where _the hell_ are you?!" Her sister said as soon as she'd answered.

"What?"

"The dress fitting? For my wedding? As my bridesmaid?"

"Oh."

"'_Oh'_?! Feyre, I swear to God, if you tell me that you forgot, I will kill you."

"Nesta, I'm sorry, I've had a pretty bad week and I don't feel well. I can't come."

"Are you dying?"

" … No."

"Then you're in good enough shape to come down here."

"Nes, I …"

"I am planning a wedding here, Feyre. I work on a schedule that could not be any tighter, and I took an hour out of it to come here and see you try the dress on to make sure it fits. So you are going to get your ass out of your house, get in a cab and come here, or I will come to your house and drag you out myself, I swear."

Feyre looked down at herself. She'd been wearing the same pair of leggings for two days, her tank top had stains of sweat from her nightmares the night before, and she couldn't imagine the state of her hair. She could not go out. But then again, Nesta _would _come to her house if she didn't go. She knew her sister well enough to know that. She sighed and answered:

"I've got to take a shower first. I'll meet you in twenty minutes."

"Hurry up."

The dress was gorgeous. The long sleeveless gown covered her from chest to feet, and the midnight blue color was exquisite. The front of the dress was cut low in the front to allow for a bigger but beautiful effect on her cleavage, and the assorted earrings Nesta had chosen fit perfectly with the style.

"You've outdone yourself, Nes," Feyre said as she looked at herself in the mirror.

"I know. But I was right to ask for this fitting, the measurements you gave me last week over the phone were completely wrong! You're thinner than you told me, and let me tell you, as much as I appreciate you lying to make me feel better about myself, I'd rather you just tell me the truth on something so important."

"I'm sorry, I just … I lost a bunch of weight these last few days. I was a bit sick."

"Oh, okay well I hope you won't have anymore weight swings until the wedding because I can't take anymore time for this, you know."

"Sorry."

They fell silent for a while and Feyre kept staring at herself in the dress. She was pretty in it, even with her hair carelessly tied in a bun after her shower. Her eyes fell down on her hands, and she tried to ignore the need to scrub them to erase imaginary blood again. She needed to think of something else.

"So, Nesta, how is the rest of the planning going?"

"Good enough, we're a bit late with some things, but I think it's going to go great. Cassian doesn't have a lot of time to help me, he's very busy with his job, but he gets really into it when he has some free time, so it really feels like we're planning it together, it's great."

Feyre smiled at her sister in the mirror. "He seems really nice."

"When he's not downright impossible, yes, he can be great." Nesta sounded annoyed, but there was affection in her voice. Seeing a man that had managed to annoy Nesta into loving him was definitely interesting, and Feyre found herself eager to meet him at their wedding, and see how this man handled her sister. Nesta left the room to talk with the shop owner about her wedding dress, and Feyre looked outside, and saw Rhysand seated on a bench, beside a very short woman in a grey dress, with short black hair and a magnificent red necklace. He was checking his phone, and the woman was reading a magazine, but as Feyre kept looking at him, she seemed to see them talking together, even though they didn't acknowledge each other in any way. They acted like that for a good five minutes, and then the woman got up, left the magazine on the bench, and went on her way. Rhysand stayed on the bench alone, still focused on his phone, and Feyre started thinking that maybe this woman was involved in some drug deal of the company's. Just like Sandy had been.

Maybe she could talk to Rhys about it. He was in charge of the security for Hybern Inc., so even if he hadn't looked for information himself, surely the police would have talked to them about Sandy's death? For all his flirty remarks and insufferable arrogance, he'd never been anything but helpful to her. Making sure Nesta was still busy talking in the other room, Feyre grabbed the sides of her dress and went out of the shop. She crossed the road, and was walking towards Rhys when he looked up from his phone. A surprised frown formed on his face, and he got up to meet her.

"Feyre?! What …" he looked down at her clearly very classy dress, "are you doing here?"

"I'm … shopping."

"Oh. okay." She felt the silence grow between them, and she knew he would leave if she didn't say anything soon. But then - "How are you feeling? Since last Friday?"

She hadn't expected him to launch the subject, but she would gladly take the opportunity he'd given her.

"Not good. I keep seeing her. I can't stop reliving the evening over and over."

He passed a hand through his hair and looked back down at her.

"It's completely normal, Feyre. What happened was awful, and I wish I could have prevented it, I truly do."

"Yeah … I was wondering if you had news of what happened to Sandy? Did the police find her body? Does her family know, yet?"

"Tamlin didn't tell you anything? I kept him informed."

"He said … He thinks it's better if we don't talk about it, he says talking about it will only hold us back."

"What?! That's bullshit. You need to talk about it, Feyre, or you won't be able to process it."

"No it's … I'm fine. I just saw you and I was wondering if you had news?"

"I do. They found her just a few hours into Saturday."

"Do you know what happened to her kid? You said she had a kid."

"She did, a thirteen years old boy. But he's fine, he's been at his aunt's house all week, and he seems to be handling the news pretty well, considering the circumstances. He'll be fine, eventually."

"Good." She didn't know what more to ask. She just wanted to talk about her nightmares, about the blood stain she saw in her living room, about the paint she couldn't even think of touching again. And as she stared into Rhys' mesmerizing eyes, she saw something in them. She saw that if she asked him to sit down with her and listen to her talk about Sandy's hair, he would sit down, and he would listen. She saw in his eyes that he understood her, that he wanted to help her. And that terrified her.

"I have to go back inside, but thank you for the update, Rhysand," she said, her voice as formal as she could muster.

"Oh. Right, well, I'll see you. Take care."

"Sure thing," she said as she turned around.

"Feyre?" He called, "you look beautiful, you should buy the dress."

He started walking away without adding anything more, and Feyre watched him go, her hands playing nervously with the dress he'd just complimented.


	8. Chapter 8

Rhysand came to the house a week later, accompanied by a man that Feyre didn't care to acknowledge for more than a second. She was sitting in the living room when they came in, Rhysand in his usual leather jacket and jeans, the man in a plain suit behind him. Tamlin came to greet them, and she heard him call the man "Mr Hybern," but she couldn't have cared less if he was actually the CEO of Hybern Inc., she didn't get up from her armchair.

Tamlin and the man went to Tamlin's office, and Rhys stood by the front door, right in the corner of her vision. He stayed there for a few minutes, but then he came inside.

"Hey, Darling."

"Hi."

He took a seat on the armchair in front of her. "How are you?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay."

They fell silent, Feyre looking anywhere but at him, Rhys playing with a loose thread from the chair. She was wondering how long he would stay there, when he spoke.

"I don't sleep much either, since that night."

"Why do you think I don't sleep?"

"Well, unless the violet circles under your eyes are a fashion choice, I'd say you didn't catch more than two hours a night in two weeks."

She rolled her eyes at him, and he smiled.

"Have you been having nightmares? Is that why you don't sleep?"

She didn't want to answer at first, but Rhys kept staring at her, and she knew he wouldn't let go until she'd answered.

"It's part of it. Most of the time, I just can't seem to fall asleep. But then yeah, when I do, I have… images."

"What sort of images?"

"I see Sandy's hair," she admitted.

"Her hair?"

"Yes. When she died, her hair was spread out around her head like a crown, and the blood mixed with her hair and… anyway, I keep seeing her hair."

She had blurted all of this out in just a few seconds, as if she had been eager to let it out. And maybe she had been, because now that she had told Rhys, it seemed like a minuscule part of the weight on her chest had lifted. Not a lot, not enough to make a true difference on her feelings, but maybe enough to allow her to think about something else from time to time.

"You must think I'm crazy," she told him.

He stared at her for a while before saying anything.

"The first dead body I saw, the woman had been picking sunflowers when she died. She was in her kitchen when her neighbor came in and stabbed her, so the sunflowers were displayed neatly in a blue vase, and the vase was splattered with blood. To this day, sometimes I can't fall asleep because I picture the drops of blood on the vase. I don't think you're crazy, Feyre. I think you're a good person who lived through something very traumatic, and now your mind is finding a way to cope with it."

She considered what he'd said for a while. "You really think it's normal?"

"Absolutely. You know what I keep seeing this week, everytime I close my eyes?"

"What?"

"You."

"Me?"

"I keep seeing the look of horror on your face when you were kneeling next to her. And I keep seeing your silent tears when I was washing the blood off your legs. I see more than my share of dead bodies in my line of work, and although it's never pleasant, I've gotten more or less used to it." She didn't want to know why his line of work required him to have seen that many dead bodies. "But seeing the pain and the horror on your face… It haunts me."

"I don't know what to say." He got up from the chair as he heard the door of Tamlin's office opening. He went up to her and handed her a piece of paper.

"There's nothing to say, Feyre. You can call me at this number anytime, so don't hesitate if you need to talk."

"Why are you doing this?"

He considered. "Because your pain is already haunting my dreams, Darling, and I don't want you to suffer more."

He left her with that, and was back at the front door by the time Tamlin and Mr Hybern arrived. Clenching the piece of paper in her hand, Feyre gave him a small smile before he left. '_Don't hesitate if you need to talk.'_ He'd told her he thought it was stupid that Tamlin didn't want her to talk about Sandy's death. Apparently, he had decided to do something about it.

_02:14 - Are you sleeping?_

Feyre stared at the text message she'd just sent. It was the third time in as many days that she wrote to him.

She'd slept nearly three hours without interruption after their conversation, and she'd kept her small lunch down. But the liberating effect of their talk hadn't lasted. It had taken her a few more sleepless nights before working up the courage to write, but now that she had started, she didn't want to stop. They'd talked on the phone the first night, because Feyre was afraid of writing about the murder. But Tamlin had gotten up at the sound of her voice in the living room, so the second night, they'd only texted about trivial subjects.

_Rhys, 02:15 - No. You okay?_

She let a small smile spread across her face at his immediate answer.

_02:16 - Not really. I keep seeing her eyes tonight._

_Rhys, 02:17 - I'm sorry, Darling… what do you want to talk about?_

_02:18 - Why can't you sleep?_

He took an extra minute to answer.

_Rhys, 02:21 - I kept seeing your eyes._

_02:22 - Oh. I'm sorry._

_Rhys, 02:23 - Don't apologize, it's not your fault. What were you up to today?_

_02:25 - Not much. I tried to go into my painting studio, but it was too hard. The last painting I started had red roses in them and now I can only see blood when I see that color._

_Rhys, 02:26 - I'm sorry. You paint?_

_02:27 - Yes. It's not amazing, but I usually enjoy it._

_Rhys, 02:30 - I'm sure it's beautiful. And you shouldn't force yourself to paint right now, I think it'll come back to you when you're ready. I went to a painting exhibit yesterday, I'd have invited you if I'd known you liked it._

_02:31 - You went to an art exhibit?_

_Rhys, 02:32 - Is it that improbable?!_

_02:33 - I just didn't take you for the artsy type, that's all._

_Rhys, 02:34 - Because of my job? ;)_

_02:35 - Well… yeah. It's stupid, I know._

_Rhys, 02:37 - It's not stupid. But yeah, I do enjoy going to exhibits from time to time._

Smiling at her phone, Feyre tried to picture Rhysand, with his black leather jacket, his old pair of jeans and his Doc Martens, in one of the immaculate galleries of the Rainbow, saying praises about an abstract painting. She laughed at the image in her mind, sent him a text describing how she had a hard time imagining him fitting in at an exhibit, and she then yawned. She was curled up on an armchair in the living room, a blanket thrown on herself to fight the chill of the night. It was May already, but the nights were still cold, especially in the living room. But she had difficulty falling asleep anywhere else, so she'd taken to coming in there everytime Tamlin was asleep.

And then there was the matter of the text messages.

She knew she should have been able to tell Tamlin. After all, Rhys and her were just texting harmlessly, trying to get through this horrific time. Tamlin wasn't in good enough shape to talk to her about all that had happened, so she had found someone who could, even if it was just asking how she was doing, and then talking about anything else. But even as she thought about how harmless their texting was, she knew Tamlin wouldn't see it that way. He was jealous of the smallest interactions she would have with a man who wasn't him, even when it was with friends of his like Lucien, so she didn't dare to imagine how he would react if he knew she texted another man in the middle of the night. He wouldn't listen to her saying that there was nothing more than understanding between them. He wouldn't care that those text messages helped her get a little better. He would just tell her to stop. And she didn't want to. Not when the only thing making her smile these last few days had been the sound of a new text in the dead of night. She knew it was wrong to hide something from Tamlin, but if she was being honest with herself, she didn't really care. Tamlin wanted her to get better, he wanted her to stop talking about his illegal job, and what had happened to Sandy. And she wasn't talking about it anymore. She was giving him what he wanted, and she wasn't obligated to tell him how.

They kept on texting for maybe an hour before finally, Feyre fell asleep on the armchair, and spent the rest of the night sleeping better than she had the past two weeks.


	9. Chapter 9

I don't have much to say about this chapter except... I can't wait for you guys to read it!

As always in this fic, trigger warnings apply for this work, about domestic abuse and mention of domestic abuse.

* * *

Feyre kept sleeping better and better over the next two weeks. She still dreamt of dead eyes and crowns of crimson, she still barely ate, but she managed to catch more than an hour of sleep everyday, and to keep most of her food down. Tamlin seemed happier too, he started kissing her again and he started going downstairs at night to ask her to come to bed with him. Some nights, she did. Most nights, she still needed the living room, she still needed to be close to where everything had happened. And she still needed the text messages. Rhysand had come to their house three or four times since the day he'd given her his number, and she had been afraid it would be strange seeing him again after their midnight talks. But it was easy. For all that he was serious and doing his job, he was still the same person she had discovered in the texts. The same funny, charming, interesting person who told her about art exhibits and listened to her rant about her job. After his meetings with Tamlin were over, they had talked more about how she felt about Sandy and he'd given her updates on the investigation - not much going on since he had erased all evidence. Tamlin had seen them talking by the front door, but she'd kept their talks short enough to contain his jealousy to a minimum. And, as much as she wanted to hide the late night conversations, she saw no problem with her and Rhys exchanging a few words when Tamlin was around, so she didn't try to conceal anything.

It had been a month since Sandy's death. And tomorrow, Nesta was getting married. She had organized a hair appointment for Feyre and Elain at 2:30, a makeup appointment at 3, and then the wedding was at 4 in the afternoon.

Feyre was giving her dress a final check before going to bed when Tamlin came in the bedroom. He stood beside her and encircled her in his arms, starting to kiss her neck.

"This dress is gorgeous, Doll. Is it for a special occasion?"

She turned to him. "Are you joking?"

"What?" He said, his hands playing with her pants. But Feyre didn't register any of his caresses.

"My sister's wedding. Tomorrow. I told you about it nearly two months ago."

"It's tomorrow? Then we're not going."

"What?!" She said, moving out of his embrace.

"Yeah, I have a dinner for work, and you're coming with me."

"No I'm not."

"Feyre, don't be ridiculous. I can't very well go without you."

"Tam, it's my _sister's _wedding. I'm not going to a dinner party instead!"

"Are you seriously bailing on me?" He asked, his voice starting to sound more angry with every word.

"Me? Bailing? You're the one that's planning work stuff when we have something else arranged."

He laughed. "I'm not going to pass up on a ten million dollar contract to go to your sister's tacky wedding."

"Well then don't come. But I'm not missing it."

They stared at each other for a long while. Tamlin was towering over her, and she could see that his jaw was clenched, and that he wanted her to say she would come with him to this dinner. But she crossed her arms and didn't look away. She wasn't being silly or unreasonable, she knew that. It was her sister's wedding, and she wouldn't miss it just to please him. She wouldn't back down. And he seemed to see it in her eyes, because he took a step back, sighed and said:

"Alright, do whatever you want. I'm going to sleep in the guestroom tonight."

She felt a tinge of guilt at forcing him out of his own bed, but a second later, it was washed away by a smile. He'd agreed with her. He wouldn't cancel his dinner plans, but at least she was allowed to do what she wanted with her night. She couldn't wait for the wedding.

* * *

The ceremony had been beautiful. Nesta was more gorgeous than ever, with her long white gown covered in delicate embroidery, and her beautiful face enhanced by light makeup. Her now-husband, Cassian, was very handsome, too. Much taller than her, with light brown skin and brown eyes, his shoulder-length hair held back in a classy hairstyle, he looked dashing in his black tuxedo.

They were at the reception now, held under a large tent in the garden of the inn. It was a rather small mariage, really, only three long tables with the couple's friends, and a fourth one, smaller, with their family. With only their father, Elain, two aunts from her mother's side and herself, Feyre had expected their share of the family table to be the smallest. Yet weirdly, it wasn't. Cassian's family was constituted of his brother, Azriel, seated beside her, and their cousin Morrigan, a blonde woman in a very extravagant red dress that had hugged her immediately, told her to call her Mor, and presented her to her girlfriend before going to sit beside Elain with said girlfriend. A small table, but a loud one, especially with Cassian and Mor constantly shouting jokes at each other from their respective seats. Feyre had spent a large part of dinner laughing at their shenanigans, and chatting with Nesta beside her, the conversation strained between them, as always, but made easier by the obvious happiness her sister was letting out. Now, Nesta was walking around to the other tables, her hand in Cassian's, talking to the guests of her wedding. Feyre was looking at them when she felt the weight of a gaze on her, and turned to find Azriel watching her. He smiled and she smiled back, somewhat intimidated by him. They hadn't talked much during the meal, and she wasn't sure what she could say to him. He didn't seem like an easygoing man, not like his brother, and she was afraid of not knowing what to say to him. But he was the one starting up the conversation, friendlier than she'd imagined.

"So, Feyre, you're the youngest of your family, right?"

"Yes, I'm three years younger than Nesta. What about you?"

"I'm a month older than Cassian. But we're foster brothers, we were both adopted."

"Oh, I didn't know."

"Yeah. So we don't really count who's older and all, even though Cassian likes to gloat every year at my birthday how I'm _so _much older!"

Feyre laughed, "He seems like the kind of man who would do that, yeah."

"He really is." They fell silent and Feyre looked at her sister and her husband, now dancing together under the soft lights of the tent. She turned back to Azriel and found him watching them too, a smile on his face.

"Your brother seems like a nice man."

He looked at her. "He really is. He can be a little… too much, sometimes, but he's a great guy. And he loves your sister so much, I can honestly say I've never seen him like how he is when they're together."

"That's good."

He swallowed slowly, as if he felt awkward, and she understood why when he spoke: "So… I don't want to be rude, but how come I've never met you? Nesta and Cass have been together nearly two years, and I've seen Elain a lot," a small smile appeared on his face at the mention of her sister's name, "but never you. How come?"

"Well," Feyre said, not really knowing how to explain herself, "I'm not really a family person. And… Nesta and I were never close, even as kids, so life kind of kept us apart these last few years." And because she didn't want to dwell on the subject, she added with what she hoped was a gleeful tone, "But I'm really happy to be here tonight! So, Azriel, what do you do?"

"I'm an assistant district attorney."

A pool of red on the carpet. Sandy's dead eyes staring at her in surprise. _We're not calling the police!_ The blood running down her legs and Rhys' gentle hands washing it away.

All the images came rushing back inside her head as Azriel told her about his job, and she felt her smile falter. This man whom she'd been speaking to, who was now _a part of her family_, worked for the district attorney. He was in direct contact with the police, and probably with the people investigating Sandy's death.

She smiled at him. She needed to stay calm. Because if she didn't, she would certainly end up crying right here and there. So she kept talking with Azriel, as calmly as she could, and tried to ignore the flashes of red in front of her eyes.

* * *

Feyre smiled at the way her sister's husband was looking at Nesta. They'd spent the day bickering with each other, but she could see how deeply Nesta cared for him, and looking at Cassian, she was sure of the love she saw in his eyes.

Almost everybody had gone to bed, and the living room of the inn was almost empty, except for Azriel, Feyre, and the married couple. The conversation had started to drift from the wedding to social issues in Velaris, and Nesta and Cassian were arguing louder and louder with every passing second.

"Oh, so my personal experience doesn't matter then, does it?"

"No, Cassian, all I'm saying is, you're reducing the issue to some insignificant anecdote, you can't say that -"

A small cough came from the door, and they all turned to find the receptionist looking awkwardly at Cassian. Nesta looked the man up and down, as if he was the worst person in the world for daring to interrupt her.

"What."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but there's a guest of Mr. Knight's at the front desk."

Cassian smiled and got up.

"Oh yes, absolutely, that's my brother. Ness, sweetheart, I'm gonna go get him, do you want to come?"

"Yes, sure," her sister answered before getting up and arranging her dress around her. They both left the room, and Feyre turned to Azriel.

"Another brother of yours? He's kind of late, isn't he?"

Azriel chuckled. She was starting to like his quiet nature.

"Kind of, yes. He has a complicated job, it doesn't allow him to go out much, so he couldn't be here for the ceremony, but he said he'd come by later to meet Nesta and see us. We haven't seen him in a long time."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, you must miss him a lot. What does he do?"

"He works with the police, but I'm sorry Feyre, I can't tell you more about this. But yeah, we miss him, it's good to see him for once," and she saw the slightest of smiles spread on his face. She was going to go on when the voice of Nesta approached again.

"... here with us, I hope it's not a problem? If you can't risk it, I can ask her to leave us alone, she'll understand."

"No, it's okay, Nesta, I'm sure your sister won't be a problem," answered a pleasant voice that sounded strangely familiar, but that she couldn't quite place. "I can't stay too long anyway, I just wanted to meet you."

"Well, it's a pleasure, I'm happy to finally be able to meet you too," her sister answered, opening the door to the living room, followed by her husband, and beside him, someone she knew all too well.

Rhysand.


	10. Chapter 10

Hi everyone! I'm sorry it took me so long to update! Work was just crazy, and then I went on holidays in France to see my family, it was my first trip home in two years so I was very busy hahaha anyway, here's chapter 10, I hope you'll like it!

* * *

It had been thirty minutes since Rhysand Morgan had come into the living room, and Feyre had no idea how she hadn't imploded yet. He'd kept it breezy when he'd seen her, and the only real exchange they'd had had been when he'd hugged her quickly on what was supposed to look like their first encounter. She could still feel the warmth of his breath against her ear when he'd whispered 'don't tell them anything until we've talked privately.'

So here she was, making small talk with the drug dealer who had helped her boyfriend cover up a murder only a few weeks before, hoping that the rest of the people present would just disappear and leave them alone. It was probably going to happen soon, seeing as Azriel was half asleep on his chair, and Nesta and Cassian were growing more handsy with every passing moment. She felt like her dress was too tight, crushing her lungs and impeding her from thinking straight about what was happening. What was he doing here? How was he Cassian and Azriel's brother, when one of them was an assistant district attorney? How didn't they know about his illegal activities? Or did they know, and let him go free anyway? What was he hiding from her? And them? She had to -

"Feyre?" her sister asked as she was getting up, "I was just suggesting we all go to bed, are you coming?"

"What? Yes, yes of course."

"I need to go anyway," Rhys said as he got up and went to hug her sister. "Nesta, I'm glad I got to meet you tonight. Congratulations on the wedding." He let go of her and gave Feyre the quickest of looks.

"Thank you. Can I get you back to the front gate?"

"Oh it's okay, I can go with him," Feyre cut in.

* * *

"I'm glad you could come by," she could hear Cassian say from the hall, "I know it's complicated for you but it meant a lot."

"Hey, I wouldn't have missed it."

"Are you… okay?"

"I'm as good as someone could be in my place. But don't worry about me, go upstairs and enjoy your wedding night!"

"Oh, I'm planning to! So what do you think of her?"

"Nesta? She seems… intense! But no less than what you need in your life, Cass."

They both laughed, and said their goodbyes, and then he was coming out the front door, and without looking at him, she knew Rhysand was staring at her. She started walking towards the gate quickly, the lights of the inn fading behind her. She could feel him following, but she wasn't sure she had the nerve to face him yet.

"Feyre -"

"Shut up."

"Feyre, look at me."

"I said 'shut up', I can't think when you're talking."

She was nearly running now, but he didn't fall back, and they reached the gate in seconds. Finally, when there was nowhere else to go, Feyre turned around to look at him, actually look for the first time that evening. He was wearing very different clothes from the jeans and leather jacket she was used to, and the dark blue shirt and black pants made him look like a completely different man. His eyes were the same though, that beautiful deep blue she never seemed to be able to look away from.

"Explain yourself," she blurted out, suddenly eager to talk.

"Explain myself?! I'm sorry, Darling, you're gonna need to be more specific."

His usual smirk was painted on his face, but she could see it was only for show, his clenched jaw and twitching fingers were telling her another story.

"You want me to be more specific? How about _your brother told me you worked with the police?!_ Is that specific enough for you?"

He ran his hands over his face, and she could hear him muttering. "Shit. Shit. I can't believe this is happening right now. I take a half hour break on a two year mission, and I run into the freaking girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I an inconvenience?"

Finally, he looked at her completely, and when he spoke, it was in an angry voice she'd never heard before. "Yes, you are, Feyre. You're compromising everything!"

"Is it true? Are you a cop?"

"I can't believe this… After everything I gave up for this, I had to run into you here, of all places."

"Are you a cop?"

"I mean, seriously, what are the chances you would be my brother's sister in law, for god's sake. It's just -"

"Are. You. A. Cop."

"... unbelievable. I should have just stayed home and -"

"ARE YOU A COP?!"

"Yes! Yes, I am a cop! Are you happy now?"

The silence after this was too much, almost deafening. She just wanted to disappear, to undo the last half hour of her life, the last two months of her life, even. Rhysand had been a constant presence in her life for almost two months now, he'd helped her get through that horrible night at their house and she had started to rely on him, to confide in him, somehow. And here he was, standing in front of her, admitting that everything that had happened had been a lie. She felt her throat closing up and her vision blurring with tears, at the same moment her legs gave up from under her. She was nearly on the ground when she felt strong arms encircling her, and when she managed to look up at him, his face seemed to have shifted from anger to worry.

"Feyre, calm down. Please, try to breathe, ok?" He held her like he had that night in their living room, breathing in and out slowly until her rhythm was matching his. When he resumed talking, he was whispering.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten angry, it's not your fault. But I need you to stay calm, and listen to me. Can you do that?"

Unable to speak, she simply nodded.

"Good. Feyre, I'm sorry that you were here tonight, you should have never been involved in this. But now that you are, I'm going to need you to stay quiet about what you learned."

"Stay quiet? _Stay quiet?_ I've just learned that a man I thought was a friend is actually a cop that is probably going to arrest my boyfriend and throw him in jail, and you want me to stay quiet?! I just, I need to -"

"If you say anything to him, or anyone, I'm a dead man."

"I can't just lie to him, Rhysand. He's my boyfriend," and she didn't want another office incident to happen.

"I'm not asking you to lie, just… don't say anything to him for a while. Tamlin is not the prime subject of my investigation, he's not at risk, okay? Or if you do say something, tell me in advance so that I can actually have a chance of survival," and there was desperation in his voice, desperation that made her brain finally work again. She stepped out of his arms and wiped her tears away.

"Tell me everything."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if I'm going to lie to the man I love, you're going to need to explain yourself more than that."

"I… I don't have time for this, Feyre. I shouldn't even be here, I'm not supposed to have any contact with my family. I need to go back to -"

"Oh, I think you'll make time if you want me to _stay quiet._"

He was looking at her, but she crossed her arms and didn't look away. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he sighed.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"What is your real name?"

"Rhysand. We don't change first names, there'd be too much of a risk of making a mistake."

"Your name is Rhysand Morgan?"

"Rhysand Knight, like my brother."

"Who do you work with? What's your real job?"

"I'm a detective with the Velaris Police Department."

"Why are you working for Hybern?"

"I've been working undercover for two years. I spent six months in a federal prison first, to build a credible cover and get enough time to earn a reputation, and I've been with Hybern for a year and a half now. I'm gathering intel, mostly, but I can't tell you more."

"You… you went to prison?"

"I did."

"But… for what crime?"

"None. I went to do my job."

"You actually went to prison?"

"Yes."

"How… how was it?"

"Prison? The worst six months of my life," his tone was calm, but his eyes told her more about the whirlwind of emotions under the surface.

"It's stupid of me to ask you so many questions, I don't even know where I'm going with those. Just tell me. Talk to me."

He stared at her for a long time before answering.

"I've been a detective for five years, and I became interested in all this when a woman on my precinct got caught in a crossfire and died. Pretty quickly, it turned out that this murder was involved in a much bigger drug network, and we built a task force to try and take it down. But it was too well hidden, too well managed, and I got nowhere with my case. So I met with the district attorney, and we elaborated a plan for me to get into Hybern's good graces. I got a new identity, with a large criminal record, and I was sent to prison to start meeting the people I needed to meet. I got recruited in there and continued working for them when I got out. It's been eighteen months now, and I'm fairly close to getting all the information I need to take Hybern and his network down.

"I haven't seen my brothers or my friends in two years, so when my handler told me about Cassian getting married, I negotiated with her to come here for thirty minutes, late at night, meet his bride, and say a quick hi to my brothers. We figured it wouldn't be too much of a risk." She could sense the sarcasm in his last sentence, because he was right, it wouldn't have been too much of a risk to meet his brothers in the dead of night for a half hour, hadn't it been for the fact that she was Nesta's sister.

"I'm sorry. The only shot at seeing your family, and I ruined it."

"Don't apologize, I should've been more careful. It's my job to know as much as possible about the people involved with Hybern. I just never looked too much into you because you're not actually involved in this, you're just someone's girlfriend."

She couldn't help but gently hit him on the arm at that. "Hey! What did we say about insulting me like that?"

He chuckled, and continued. "Sorry. But what I mean is that I never did an actual background check on you, and in two months you never mentioned a sister, so I didn't even think you could be related. I didn't even know Nesta's name before I got here tonight."

"Yeah, well, I don't talk much about my family. I used to see Elain from time to time but since I met Tamlin we kind of… drifted apart. I don't really know how, it just… Tamlin and I always had better things to do together so I stopped scheduling things with Elain, I don't know. Anyway, that's why I never talk about them."

They fell silent for the first time since the beginning of this surreal conversation. She started laughing at the thought.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," she couldn't stop laughing, "It's just… you're an undercover detective set out to bring down a drug network, and yet here we are, talking about my family drama. This is surreal."

He stared at her, his face a mixture of annoyance and astonishment, but then she saw a smile form on his face, and then he was laughing with her. Finally, they managed to calm down, and then Rhys was smiling at her awkwardly.

"Feyre, I understand how hard all of this is, and I'm truly sorry. But I need to be sure about what you're going to do now that you know who I am. I know that you're a good person, and I like to think I know you enough by now to know that you wouldn't risk my life uselessly." His eyes were calm, but there was pleading in them, and she couldn't look away.

"I don't know Rhysand, honestly. I don't want you to be in danger. But what am I supposed to do? I can't just say _nothing_."

He passed both hands through his hair, bit his bottom lip, and started pacing under the trees. She felt the chilling May wind creep around her and send shivers down her body. She wanted to go back to the inn, to the comfortable bed that was awaiting her, to her life before the party.

"Okay, what do you say we call it a night, and we talk about it more in a few days?"

He turned to her and seemed to think for a minute. "And you won't say anything?"

"Not until we talk."

"Do you promise?"

"I do."

"Feyre, I can't take any risk, so if you don't mean that -"

"Rhysand. I promise you. I don't want to see you dead because of me. I won't say anything until we talk."

The silence stretched out between them, she could feel the electricity in the air surrounding them. She hadn't realized how close they stood to each other, she could hear his heart beating. Or maybe it was her own, beating faster and stronger than before at the unbelievable turn of events.

"Alright," he whispered, " I'll be at your house on Wednesday for a reunion, we'll talk then. I'll contact you. Is this okay with you?"

"Yes."

"If you feel like this is too much, you can -"

She reached for his arm. "Rhysand, it'll be okay. I promise."

He looked at her, really looked, and she could not avoid the violet irises staring at her with an intensity she didn't know how to get away from.

"Ok. I'll see you Wednesday, then."

And then he was gone through the gate, and she was standing alone under the trees.


	11. Chapter 11

It seemed like Wednesday would never come. Feyre spent the next few days following the wedding in a blur, roaming around the house and avoiding Tamlin as much as she could. She kept fidgeting with her phone, watching TV mindlessly throughout the day as she thought back on the events of the last few weeks. As she thought back on every interaction she'd had with Rhysand. She'd given him her word that she wouldn't say anything until they talked, and she wouldn't. But she couldn't stop herself from reliving everything that had happened, and wondering what she would have done differently if she'd known all this from the start.

She jolted from her armchair as the front door opened and Tamlin came in, followed by a man she didn't know, Hybern, and… Rhysand.

He didn't look at her as they all went down the hall to Tamlin's office, so Feyre waited until she heard them enter the office, and then she waited some more before getting up and going into the corridor. Rhys was standing outside the door, arms crossed, and he didn't move until she was standing in front of him. He finally looked at her then, and uncrossed his arms to lift a finger in front of his lips. She nodded, and he moved away from the door and towards the bathroom door down the hall. A place where they could speak without being heard, but also a good excuse for him to have moved from his post. Finally, once they were inside with the door locked, he whispered to her something she wasn't expecting.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not saying anything."

"I'd given you my word, I wasn't going to break it."

"Yeah well… thank you anyway."

She gave him a small smile and answered: "You're welcome."

They fell silent, and Feyre leaned against the sink, looking at him clearly for the first time since the wedding. He was back to his usual clothes, but now that she'd seen him in an elegant dark shirt, these clothes seemed unfit for him, as if the leather jacket and jeans were not intended for him. His face was as beautiful as ever, but his eyes seemed more tired, more worried than she'd ever seen them. Or maybe she just hadn't noticed before.

"I don't have a lot of time right now, their meeting isn't going to last long. What do you want to know?"

"I -" she stopped. "I don't know."

She'd spent most of her time the last few days thinking about him, but now that he was actually here in front of her, she was at a loss for words. As if understanding her struggle, he gave her a small smile and said:

"I can't imagine how hard all of this must be for you. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for you to be involved."

He seemed sincere, and she smiled back. "It's fine. It's just… I can't really wrap my mind around it."

Silence encircled them again, and Feyre knew he was giving her time to collect her thoughts and maybe form a coherent sentence. She thought of all that had happened in the last few weeks, and finally, she had a question.

"What happened to Sandy, you… You were the one who suggested moving her. Why?"

He sighed and muttered "Certainly not starting easy," then he looked back at her and began talking. "I decided to move her because they were starting to talk about making her disappear, and I couldn't let that happen. So I figured moving her body would do less damage."

"So you… I mean Sandy's body, it…" Feyre didn't know how to finish her sentence.

"She was taken care of. And she'll get justice."

She didn't know what he meant by that exactly, but still, hearing these words changed something inside her. She felt lighter somehow, and she left out a low laugh of relief. Sandy's murder had been eating her alive, but if Rhysand was a detective, then it was likely that it would not go unpunished. But then…

"Will Tamlin be involved in the murder? Will… Will I?"

"I was a witness, I know what happened, and you were an innocent party that night. As for Tamlin, I told you the other day, he's not the main focus of my investigation. Honestly, I don't exactly know what is going to happen with _that _investigation, I'm disconnected from the force so I don't have regular updates on these things."

"Will you tell me more if you learn anything?" She needed to know. But he coughed and ran a hand through his hair, as if wary about what he was about to answer.

"Feyre, I… You're not going to see me again."

"What?"

"All of this, it's a very dangerous mission for me, and now that you know about me, I'm risking my life every day that I keep working. So I'm being pulled out of this assignment."

"I won't say anything, Rhysand."

"It's not about whether or not I trust you, Feyre. You could let it slip without meaning to, and I can't take that kind of risk. My work with Hybern was nearly over anyway so it's fine. I'm seeing my handler soon, but I'm pretty sure she will remove me immediately so… I won't come back here again."

Feyre took him in, his tired eyes and low shoulders, and she understood. He was risking his life, and she was a risk for him. It was smart to stop now for him, it was the safest way of action. She understood, but it didn't make it easier to accept. She'd come to rely on their nightly conversations more than she cared to admit, and she had a hard time imagining going back to the sleepless nights before they'd started talking. But he was right of course, and even though she liked talking to him, she had to admit that the few days since she'd learned his true identity had been extremely stressful, and she wanted him gone, and everything back to normal. So she just nodded at him. They heard voices coming from Tamlin's office, and with a last look in her direction, Rhys got out of the bathroom and closed the door.

* * *

Tamlin took her out to dinner that night, and for a few hours, Feyre didn't think about murders, drugs, or undercover detectives. She just enjoyed the company of the man she'd fallen in love with, enjoyed what semblance of normalcy she could muster. They got home at around eleven, drank some more wine, got up to their bedroom and made love on top of the covers. Tamlin fell asleep only minutes afterward, an arm draped over Feyre's stomach.

And then it happened. Lying naked and relaxed, Feyre was suddenly overwhelmed with the voice of Sandy screaming at her as images of a blood-soaked carpet started invading her mind. She got up quickly, grabbed a bathrobe and went downstairs. Curled up in her usual armchair, she started reliving the events of the last few months. And as she started thinking about everything she'd learned and witnessed since the dinner party, she also started to realize something else. She would never be able to go back to a time before that night. She couldn't erase the fact that she'd witnessed a murder, nor ignore the other illegal activities she knew were happening around her. She could try to live a normal life, but her mind wouldn't be at ease as long as she stayed in this situation without doing anything. Maybe she couldn't do anything to help Sandy, but she could at least try to prevent something that bad from happening to anyone else.

A new-found determination in her movements, Feyre got up, grabbed her cellphone, and looked for Rhysand's number.


	12. Chapter 12

"Feyre?" Rhys answered in a sleepy rough voice, "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I am. Rhysand, I need to see you. Can you come by tomorrow?"

"What? What are you talking about?" his voice was becoming clearer and sharper as he woke up and registered what she was telling him.

"I need to talk to you, it's important. It's about your investigation."

"I told you I wasn't going to keep working this case anymore."

"I know, but you can't stop now."

"Why? Did something happen today?"

"Well…" she stopped for a second, trying and failing to put into words the thought process that had led her to calling him. "Not exactly, no. But Rhys, I want to help you bring Hybern Inc. down."

For an eternity, only silence answered her, and then Rhysand said in a low voice:

"Feyre, please tell me you're not serious."

She felt all of her determination falter at that. "Yes, I am serious. I thought a lot tonight about everything and I figured I could be of great help to you. And I thought that if you stopped working then…"

"Feyre we can't talk about this over the phone," he cut her off. "Actually, there's no need to talk about it at all, you're not getting involved in my investigation. I'm seeing my handler in two days days and I'll be out of my cover a few days later. You need to just forget about me and get on with your life."

"Get on with my life?! How the hell am I supposed to do that when I witnessed a..."

He stopped her again. "Feyre we can't discuss this over the phone."

"Then where? When?"

He sighed, probably resigning to the fact that she wasn't going to back down, and said "Can you meet me at the Grand Central Cinema tomorrow?"

"I guess so, yes. Tam is working all day. But what if he's having me followed again?"

"Meet me in room 2 during the 4:30 movie. Take a seat as far up as you can, on the right. Okay?"

"Okay." She was about to hang up when she heard him add: "Feyre, just so we're clear, this does not mean I accept your help. Because I don't. We'll talk more tomorrow."

She agreed, but she couldn't stop the smile forming on her face. She would have plenty of time the next day to explain to him how she could be useful, and then he'd accept and she would have an actual purpose to her days.

* * *

She barely took a look at what the movie in room 2 was about before buying her ticket on the right upper aisle, and going into the room. She took her seat and watched absentmindedly as the commercials ended and the movie started, apparently a romantic comedy. She kept looking around the room searching for Rhysand, but couldn't seem to find him.

Ten minutes into the movie, she felt a warm breath against her ear and started as Rhysand's voice resonated.

"Follow me."

She turned to her right, but he was already walking towards the emergency exit at the end of the aisle.

They climbed down two flights of stairs and found themselves in a dark corner of the mall's parking lot. Rhys stopped and leaned against the nearest wall, he crossed his arms over his chest before looking at her. Feyre felt her cheeks burn under his stare and looked away, twisting her fingers nervously. They stayed silent for a while, the only sound coming from the distant cars coming in and out, and the low hum of the vents.

"What happened yesterday, Feyre?" Rhysand said, breaking the silence between them. His voice was low, and he almost sounded concerned. She looked back at him and met his deep blue eyes.

"Nothing special happened, really. I just… I tried to have a normal evening, I tried to ignore what had happened. But I can't. I can't just go back to a normal life, it's impossible."

"I understand that, but that doesn't explain why you called me at 1 in the morning to tell me you suddenly wanted to help me bring down a drug network."

"Sorry about the late-night call."

"That's okay. But you're not answering me."

She knew that. And maybe she didn't really want to answer because it didn't make much sense in her mind either. But she still started talking.

"In the few days that passed since I learned you were a cop, I felt so nervous. I kept thinking about the implications, and reliving all of our encounters, and overthinking everything I ever told you. I was really stressed out."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not done."

"Oh."

"I was really stressed out, but yesterday, when you left and told me I was free to forget all of this, I realized something. Those few stressful days were also the days when I felt better about myself. Knowing that you were actively doing something against them. Knowing that even if Sandy had died, there were people trying to get justice for her. There's nothing I can do to help Sandy now, but maybe there's something I can do to help you."

She stopped talking and found him motionless in front of her, studying her.

"Feyre, I understand how you feel, And your need to act against something awful that you witnessed. But I can't let you be involved in this."

"Why not? I can be useful to you, I'm close to Tamlin and I can access some information you could never get your hands on."

"I'm not doubting your usefulness, I just don't think you realize how dangerous this operation is."

"I _do_ realize it! I was there when Hart killed an innocent woman in cold blood, I'm not a fool."

He uncrossed his arms and advanced towards her. "No Feyre, you don't realize how this would be dangerous for _you_. You saw some horrible things, I'm not denying that, but so far you haven't done anything wrong in their eyes. Nothing will happen to you because you're Tamlin's girlfriend. If you get caught spying on Hybern, that won't matter. Tamlin's family is only one of Hybern's suppliers. They won't care about hurting you if they realize you are a threat. You'll be in real, life-threatening danger."

"So what? You're in danger everyday you do this and you've been undercover for two years!"

"I'm a cop, this is my job! This is what I trained for. You're a normal citizen, and my job is to protect you, not to put you in danger."

Now Feyre was the one crossing her arms, trying to stop the fury she felt from showing. She felt tears of anger rising in her eyes and clenched her jaw for a moment, giving time for the tears to stop and allow space for cold determination.

"I know that, and I understand it. But I can handle the risk. I… Rhys, what happened to Sandy was terrible. And I'm not talking about how I felt, I'm talking about her. She had a life, a family, she had a son. Maybe she wasn't the best person in the world but she didn't deserve what happened to her. Hart killed her and moved on with his life without a second thought. He was ready to make her disappear and leave her family in the dark forever. If this is what goes on around Hybern, then I can't let it happen without doing something about it. There isn't much I can do on my own, but I could help you."

Silence fell again between them, and Feyre steeled herself for another refusal, another tirade about how it was too dangerous for her. But then -

"What about Tamlin?"

"I… What about him?"

"Are you ready to lie to him on a daily basis about what you do? Are you ready to risk him going to jail because of you?"

"You said your investigation wasn't about Tam. You said he wasn't directly at risk."

"He's not the subject of my investigation, no. My main goal is to bring down Hybern. But Tamlin and his family still work with him, and I gathered a lot of evidence on Hybern's associates in two years, so if the D.A. wants to prosecute them at some point, Tamlin will be at risk. Are you ready to live with this?"

Feyre thought about her boyfriend. She thought about how he'd taken care of her, and how amazing their life together was sometimes. She thought of his kisses on her body and his dashing smile. And then she thought about the account books in his office. She thought about how chill he had been the day after Sandy's murder, as if a woman hadn't died in their living room hours before. She thought about his anger at her discovering his illegal activities, and his arrogance about the fact that he wouldn't go to jail.

She loved the man she'd met all those months ago, but maybe that man wasn't real. Not entirely, anyway.

"I don't want to send him to jail. But it's not my fault if he's involved in this. I want to help you."

Rhysand looked at her for a long while, as if assessing her determination. Then a small grin started to form on his face, and he said:

"Alright."


	13. Chapter 13

The next few days went by in a blur as Feyre waited for Rhys to contact her.

"I need the approval of my handler before we can do anything. I'll call you with more information in a few days. Don't do anything in the meanwhile, Feyre, okay?" he'd told her while leading her back up the stairs to the cinema. She'd agreed to wait for him, and now it was Sunday, and she was getting impatient. The temperature was rising more everyday as the summer rolled in, and Feyre was lounging on her bed in a light summer dress when her phone beeped with the sound of a new message. She eagerly grabbed it and found out it was Rhysand sending her a short but precise message: "It's done. I'll contact you."

"What are you smiling at, Doll?" Tamlin asked her from the small desk near the window.

"Oh, nothing big. Nesta started to receive her wedding photos so she sent me some. Do you wanna see?" she added eagerly, knowing what his answer would be. He grunted a "no" and went back to the papers he'd been reading. Feyre stared at her phone for a while, before erasing the text and putting her phone away. She needed to be careful. And she needed to ask Nesta for some pictures of the wedding.

* * *

"Feyre, this is my handler, Amren."

Organizing the meeting had been complex and had taken a while. Feyre had told Tamlin she wanted to go to an art show a town over, and, as predicted, he'd insisted on some of his men going with her. She had protested at first, saying she could go on her own, just enough for him to buy it, and then had agreed. She'd driven up there with Bron and Rhys, and they had managed to get rid of Bron for a short while, as he was standing watch outside the art gallery while Rhys accompanied her inside.

And now they were standing in a deserted part of the gallery, looking at a painting with a very short woman beside them. Upon arriving, Feyre had realised it was the woman she'd seen sitting on the bench with Rhysand a few weeks back. She was wearing a grey pantsuit, and very large red earrings that framed her face delicately.

Following Rhysand's introduction, she actually turned to Feyre to shake her hand and scan her from head to toe twice, before going back to the painting.

"So, she's the informant you want to work with?"

Rhys answered as quietly as she had spoken. "Yes."

"And you," she added, clearly now talking directly to Feyre, "are you aware of the risks you're taking? You know that if you're discovered, it could have dire consequences on your life as you know it?"

"I do."

"Why do you want to help us with this case, Feyre?"

She was at a loss for words for a moment. She had been clear with Rhys on her motivations, but it was harder to express them in front of this woman she didn't know. She had come to trust Rhys, and she felt comfortable sharing with him, but this was harder.

"I'm not a bad person." She thought of Sandy's blood on her legs. "I didn't use to be, anyway. I didn't know about what was going on around me, but now that I do, I can't just let it go. I can't stand by and do nothing if I know that so many bad things are happening around me. When Sandy died, I think I hadn't understood the magnitude of what was happening before that night. I do now, and I want to help."

Amren had turned towards her while she was speaking, and she had an unreadable expression on her face, her arms crossed and somehow looking down at her despite the fact that she was so much smaller than Feyre. But Feyre didn't back down, she took a deep breath and looked into her beautiful, but somewhat scary, grey eyes. The moment lasted forever, or it felt like forever, before Amren nodded slightly and said "Alright. I'll take care of registering you with our department, and I will let Rhysand work out the details with you. I will not see you again if we can avoid it. Is that clear?"

"Crystal."

* * *

She felt extremely silly, like she was starring in a spy movie. Sneaking around in her own home, trying to listen in on conversations, and today, actually going into Tamlin's office to take pictures of the books she had spotted during her first time in there.

"_Are you sure you can do it?"_

"_I can. Tamlin will be out all afternoon with you, won't he?"_

"_He will, but…"_

"_Rhys, we talked about this. Trust me, I know what I'm looking for."_

"_All the books from the last two years?"_

"_Yes."_

Rhys and her had talked about this day many times over the phone, not her usual phone but a small burner he'd given to her so that they could communicate more easily. She felt so silly.

But she shouldn't. Rhys had assured her that what she was doing was so much more valuable than anything he could have imagined.

"_I could never have had access to these books. What you can do for me is of great help. But be careful."_

She had rolled her eyes then, and she did it again when she recalled their conversation. She understood why he was wary about her involvement, but she knew she could handle it. She trusted Rhys to keep Tamlin away long enough, and she had snuck the office's key from Tamlin's pocket that morning during a kiss. He had been very distracted by their closeness, and she couldn't really blame him. She hadn't felt the need to have sex with him since just after Nesta's wedding, and her connection with Rhysand made her wanting to be close to him even less.

She loved him, but she didn't feel bad for lying to him, and she found it easy to avoid his advances. Maybe a little too easy. But she refused to dwell on that as she thoroughly scanned through the books, took out the ones from the last couple of years and started making scans of every page. Her relationship wasn't supposed to be her main priority right now, and she didn't seem to mind. For the first time since the night of Sandy's death, she felt like she was doing something truly useful with her time, and it was invigorating, to a certain extent.

She was still scanning the files when her phone rang, and she saw Rhysand's text. "We've finished early. I'm trying to stall him but it won't work for long. Get out."

She felt her heart starting to race inside her chest as she quickly closed all the books in front of her and put them back in the shelves. It took her too long to find the exact place for each book again, and she got out of the study at the same moment the front door opened to reveal Tamlin and Rhysand.

But Tamlin didn't appear to realize where she was coming from, he was smiling and laughing.

"Doll, we had a great afternoon!" He said as she reached the entrance. "We managed to lock down this huge new client and it's going to get us a much larger market to work with."

He squeezed her tight against him and she saw Rhysand smiling at her from beside them. A warm feeling spreading in her chest at the sight of him, she smiled back.

"That's great," she said, getting out of Tamlin's embrace.

"It is! We'll celebrate this weekend, we're throwing a party on Saturday, what do you think?"

"Er… sure, why not?"

"Great. Now make us some coffee, will you? Rhysand and I still have work to do."

"Actually, why don't you go ahead to your study and I'll help her with the coffee, Tam?" Rhysand's voice was sweet and charming. Feyre was surprised by the use of the nickname, and even more surprised when Tamlin agreed and left them alone. Immediately, Rhys grabbed her hand and led her to the kitchen.

"Are you okay?"

"I managed to get only part of the documents, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, what matters is that you're fine. I saw you come out of the study, it was way too close, Feyre, you need to be more careful."

"Hey! I did my best with the time you gave me! You could've given me more of a heads up."

He stared at her. "You're right. I'm sorry." Letting go of her hand, he turned to the kitchen counter and filled the kettle with water, while Feyre grabbed the coffee from a drawer. It felt strangely domestic, standing in a kitchen and making coffee with him, but Feyre didn't let that thought grow any larger.

"Tamlin seemed to like you more than he usually does today."

"That's 'cause I put his fears to rest."

"What fears?"

She felt him look at her before he answered. "The fears that you and I were getting too close."

Heat invaded her cheeks. "What?"

"Yeah. He's very jealous. Unhealthily jealous. Ever since you and I met he's been on edge with me, he thinks I'm taking a special interest in you."

Tamlin wasn't wrong on this one. It just wasn't a romantic interest.

"So what changed today?"

"I mentioned in passing that I had a girlfriend."

She ignored the low sting in her heart. "Oh?"

"Yes, I figured that now that we're working together, we need to keep him as unaware as possible. So I lied."

"You… lied."

"Yep."

"So, you _don't_ have a girlfriend."

"Nope. But between the new client and this lie, he's been much more at ease with me this afternoon so I think it was a good choice."

She watched as he poured the water over the coffee and slid the lid on the pot. She looked at his delicate hands and his muscular forearms, and when he turned to grab mugs, she looked at his large shoulders moving under his clothes.

Then she coughed and forced herself to look away.

"I have a large part of the books, but I'm still missing some of it. When do you think we'll have time for another operation?"

He turned to look at her.

"How much are you missing?"

"A little more than a book."

"Then it's fine. We should have more than enough to work with. Good job, Feyre," and he gave her another warm smile that made her heart falter, before leaving the kitchen with two mugs of coffee.

* * *

She felt better. Or sometimes she did, anyway. She spent most of her nights that week awake in the living room, but she didn't feel the need to write to Rhys about nightmares. Not that it stopped her from writing to him anyway. She found herself pulled towards him, wanting to know more about his real life, and what had been real or not during their exchanges. She wasn't mad when he told her of his lies, instead she was understanding and eager to know the truth about his family, about his hobbies. And maybe she was seeing things because she wanted to, but it seemed like he too was glad for the conversation, he always answered her texts quickly and thoroughly, making her smile with jokes and what she thought might be flirting. But she didn't want to think about the flirting. She was in a committed relationship, even though she couldn't deny her steps back from her boyfriend in the last few months, and she didn't want to dwell on the fact that these days, she enjoyed the messages from another man more, so she pushed the late-night conversations to the back of her mind.

That is, until the party on Saturday came. The guests were almost the same as the ones from the garden party a few months ago, mainly from Tamlin's job, legal and otherwise. She spent a good hour that afternoon getting ready, choosing a black dress and arranging her hair halfway up on her head, wearing heavy makeup that helped conceal her tired eyes and made her lips look somehow more beautiful. She was very proud of the result, and she accepted the many compliments she received when she welcomed the different guests at the door that night. But she didn't dwell on it, and she started mingling until finally she found who she was looking for.

"Lucien!" She called to him from across the room as she entered the very large dining area they never used but had cleaned up for the occasion. The redhead turned to her and smiled, immediately abandoning his conversation with a blonde man to join her.

"Feyre," he said as he hugged her, "how are you?! I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Right?! It's been way too long, I think I haven't seen you since…" Since the garden party where she had met Rhysand.

"Since the last big work party, I think. Oh it's been way too long Feyre."

"It has. What have you been up to?"

"Not much, mainly working for your boyfriend over there," he said with a quick look in Tamlin's direction, "and trying to get something going with that cutie over here," he finished, nodding towards the blonde man he'd been talking to, and Feyre chuckled. "What about you?"

She thought about how she could answer that question without talking about covered-up murders and police investigations, and then it hit her. Lucien worked for Tamlin's company. He was a salesman for them, taking care of redistributing products coming from their regular shipments. She had never been interested in knowing what he did exactly before, and after she'd learned the truth, she hadn't thought much about him, but now she was wondering. Was Lucien involved in the drug deals and illegal shipments? Was he a salesman like Sandy had been a saleswoman? She felt the air leave her lungs as she stared at one of her only friends and started wondering if, like Tamlin, he had been lying to her for months. But his smile was starting to turn into a frown at her lack of an answer, so she smiled back.

"Not much, really. My sister got married!"

"Really? When was that?"

She let the conversation roll between them, giving him mundane details of her life from the last few months, as her mind went into overdrive reliving their every conversation regarding his job. She needed to find Rhysand.


	14. Chapter 14

**IMPORTANT: this chapter tackles directly triggering subjects of domestic violence.**

* * *

She found him near the door, leaning on the frame of the living room entrance, looking at the people inside with a grim expression. She stopped for a minute at the sight of him, hesitant to broach the subject of his work in such a public place, but then she thought about her friend Lucien, with whom she had shared so many great moments and secrets. And now she was doubting everything between them, and she needed to know.

She advanced towards him and gently grabbed his elbow to catch his attention, making him turn to her with a frown that quickly disappeared when he saw her. In fact, she saw him look her up and down swiftly and his lips part slightly. She let her heart beat a little faster as she took in his dark blue eyes and small smile, and then she took a hold of herself once more, and she was speaking.

"I need to talk to you. In private."

His frown came back and he looked around. "Now? Can't it wait?"

"It can't. Follow me." After another second of hesitation, he obeyed her and they walked discreetly in the direction of the stairs, climbed them and entered her bedroom. She closed the door behind her and finally turned back to him. His arms were crossed on his chest and he was looking in the direction of the bathroom, as if remembering the last time he'd been in there. She took a second to think about that night, about Rhysand kneeling in front of her and stroking her legs with water, about him reassuring her about what had happened, about him making her come alive with a comment on her underwear. That last part made her blush slightly and she shook the memory away.

"Do you know Lucien?" She asked abruptly.

"Lucien... Vanserra? The guy who works for Tamlin? Yeah I know him. Why?"

"Is he involved in the drug deals?"

"Why do you want to know? What happened?"

"Nothing happened, I just… I need to know. Is he involved?"

He stared at her for a minute before answering. "Not that I know of, no. I gathered intel on him a few months back when we started working on the new deal between Hybern and Tamlin's family, but I couldn't find anything. Tamlin never involved him or talked about him except on legal affairs between both firms, and I couldn't find any evidence of his involvement in his personal life."

She felt a rush of relief course through her at that news, and she let out a breathy laugh. Rhys had a baffled look on his face when she looked back up, and he was biting his lower lip and staring at her.

"Why did you need to know?"

She mustered the will to stop staring at his lips and moved up to meet his eyes.

"Lucien is a good friend of mine, and I hadn't seen him since… since the night I met you. Tonight when I saw him it just hit me that maybe he had been lying to me, too. I just… I needed to know if he was a friend or not." She felt tears raising in her yes, but before she could start crying for real, she felt Rhysand's hand covering hers, and he was standing right in front of her, talking softly.

"I understand, Feyre. Trust me when I say that I understand what you're going through, what you must be feeling. And I'm sorry. And don't try to tell me I shouldn't be," he said as she started opening her mouth, "because I should. It's my fault that you are in this mess, I turned your life upside down And I apologize for it. Truly. But let's not ruin your gorgeous makeup with tears, okay?" he finished with a smile, and she nodded with a chuckle. Then he added in a lower, softer voice: "Not that you need it."

She felt heat invade her cheeks as she registered what he'd just said, and whispered a "thank you," her voice coming out lower than what she'd intended. He gave her a warm smile and they didn't move for a while, the only sound around them the muffled noises of the party downstairs and their mutual breathing, closer than they had ever been before. Then Rhysand seemed to come back to himself, he coughed and took a step away from her, letting go of her hand.

"Let's get downstairs and get you a drink now, shall we?"

He was smiling at her and getting closer to the door, so she smiled, nodded and followed him out of the bedroom.

* * *

They grabbed two glasses of wine and headed outside, in the garden behind the house where most of the guests were enjoying the warm summer night. They started chatting about an art show Rhys had attended the week before when Tamlin joined them, passing an arm around Feyre's shoulders and extending a hand to Rhysand.

"Morgan, how are you?"

"I'm good, Atwell," answered a somewhat taken aback Rhysand, "how are you?"

"Best week of my life so far, not without your help I might say. So, did you bring her?" Feyre could feel his breath, which reeked of alcohol, but he was giddy and not angry at her for speaking to another man, so she let it go.

"Who?"

"Your girlfriend! The one you talked about the other day."

"Oh, right. She couldn't make it," he discreetly gave Feyre a knowing look and she bit back a laugh at the blatant lie her boyfriend was hopefully too drunk to detect.

"Too bad, you would have had more fun than just talking to Feyre, here!"

Feyre turned to him at that. "I'm sorry, what?"

He barked a laugh. "Oh come on, Doll, I'm only joking! Plus, you have to admit that Rhysand here probably doesn't want to spend his Saturday night talking to you."

"I see, I'll just leave you to it, then." She turned around when Tamlin grabbed her wrist.

"Feyre, don't go. It was just a joke, just chill, okay?" She turned back to find Tamlin staring down at her, and Rhys behind him, looking at him as if he was about to punch him. But she sighed, tactfully shook her head to dissuade him, and answered.

"Fine. But give me your jacket, I'm cold."

Tamlin let out a breath of exasperation, grumbled "fine" and handed her his jacket before turning back to Rhysand. Feyre stood beside them, ashamed of what had just happened in front of Rhys, and let them talk together without feeling the need to even register what they were saying. After a few minutes, she slipped her hands inside Tamlin's jacket to warm them, and found a little box in one of the pockets. She took it out quietly, opened the box, and stared blankly at and the engagement ring she found there.

"What is this?" She let out in a low voice, barely able to speak as she stared at the large green stone on top of the ring. Seeing the lack of response on her boyfriend's part, she repeated louder. "What is this?" She looked up to find both men staring at the ring, then at her, and Tamlin suddenly answering.

"Why do you always put your nose where it doesn't belong, Doll?"

"I asked you a question." She simply said, not ready to be derailed from what she had found.

"What do you think it is, huh? Don't play with me Feyre, I didn't want to ask you before later tonight and I …"

"'Later tonight'? You were going to ask me in front of everyone?!"

"I don't want to have this conversation right now."

"Oh, we are having this conversation."

"Alright, then," and he started to get on one knee, but she stopped him and began to drag him inside the house and towards his office, the only quiet place downstairs. She could see Rhys following them from a distance, and as she forced Tamlin to unlock the door to the office, she registered him being stopped a few feet away by Lucien who asked him quietly what was going on. She heard him whisper and heard the words "proposal" and "angry" before she slammed the door behind her.

"What the hell, Feyre?!" Tamlin started immediately, stumbling away from her.

"I should be the one saying that, Tam. Why do you have an engagement ring?"

"Why do you think? I was going to propose to you!"

"In front of all our guests? Do you honestly believe I would like being put on the spot like that?!"

"Yes! Obviously, it's every girl's dream, right?"

"Not mine, Tam. You know I hate being in the spotlight, why did you think this would be okay?"

"I guess I thought you would be fine with any kind of proposal, but apparently I was wrong." He laid his hands on his desk to support himself, and looked up at her before continuing. "Alright, maybe the public proposal wasn't such a perfect idea. Let's do it now then."

She was taken aback for a second. "What?"

"Give me the ring and I'll propose now while no one is watching."

She couldn't believe what was happening in front of her. "Tam, I have so many objections to that idea. First of all, how is this better when all of our friends are standing behind the door waiting for us to come out? And second, where did you get this idea to propose to me tonight? Where does all of this come from?"

"What do you mean?"

"You want to marry me?!"

"I love you!" He almost yelled at her.

"We haven't even been dating a year yet! We never even talked about the idea of getting married!" She answered, her voice raising as much as his.

"So what, it's a proposal, it's supposed to be a surprise, isn't it? Don't you love me?"

"Of course I love you, but that's not the problem here."

"Then what is?! Tell me, what is the problem that makes you refuse a life with the man you supposedly love, even though I've been taking care of you ever since we met? What is such a problem in that situation?!"

"I need more time, Tamlin!"

"For what?! More time for what?! More time to sneak around my private affairs and spy on me? More time to refuse to have sex with me?" He was raising his voice with every sentence, and at the mention of sex, he turned back to his desk and started throwing on the ground between them everything he could get his hands on. Feyre took a step back to avoid the shattered pieces of an ashtray and felt like all of the air had gone out of her lungs as he kept talking. "More time to get out of your way to avoid me in my own house?!" He started to advance in her direction but she didn't move, her vision blurry with tears as she felt a flash of fear coursing through her body. The door to the office burst open before he could reach her and through her tears she saw Rhysand and Lucien come in and take in the mess between them, her crying form against the wall and Tamlin's clenched fists. They both moved towards Tamlin to stop him, and she let herself rest against the wall behind her as the three men were talking fiercely and her heart was slowly coming back to its normal pace. After a few minutes, Tamlin slowly came to her, Lucien and Rhysand watching him warily, and he took her face in his hands, brushing her tears away.

"Feyre, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get so upset. It's just… I thought you would be happy if I proposed to you, I thought it was what you wanted for us, now. I'm sorry I yelled and got angry. Will you forgive me, Doll?"

She stared at him blankly for a while, taking in his sad eyes and the feel of his hands against her cheeks. Still unable to find the force to talk, she nodded at him slowly, and he smiled and kissed her.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry, I'm going to go get a maid to clean this mess up and then we can move on, okay?"

She nodded again, and he kissed her once more before walking out of the office. She was left standing in front of Lucien and Rhysand, both of them staring at her, Lucien with pity in his eyes, Rhys with what could only be described as burning rage. He advanced towards her and asked: "Are you okay?" And without giving her time to answer, "No, of course you're not okay, what a stupid question." He put his hands on her shoulders. "What can I do for you? Do you need a drink or something? Feyre, you -"

"I need to be alone," She whispered. interrupting him.

"I don't know if it's such a good idea after what just happened and -"

"You don't know anything about what just happened!" And this time she was almost yelling at him. "I just need to be alone, leave me alone!" And she got away from him and crossed the corridor to the stairs. A minute later, she was locking herself up in her bedroom.

* * *

Tamlin apologized again during the night, and then the next morning when he brought her breakfast in bed, and then later in the day when he found her sitting quietly in their garden. In the garden, she smiled at him, told him she was alright and he didn't need to apologize anymore, and they went on with their Sunday like nothing had happened the night before. She didn't want to talk about the engagement ring sitting in his office, and she didn't think he would bring it up again any time soon, but she couldn't help but think about it. She knew she was in the right, not wanting to get married after only a few months, but she couldn't help but feel guilty at her rejection - or at her non-answer, since she hadn't technically said no.

She got an unexpected but welcome distraction from her grim thoughts by the form of a text around noon. A short text, without any embellishment or extra information than what was needed.

_Today, 4 pm, the small cafe on Northern Avenue beside the Chinese restaurant. He won't follow you. I won't take no for an answer so don't even bother trying to dodge this._

She wasn't ready to face Rhysand yet, not after what she had let him witness the night before. Tamlin's outbursts of anger usually occurred when they were alone, and she had gotten good at managing them, but to have Lucien and Rhysand witness it? It had felt shameful and humiliating, and she didn't want to face either of them yet. But there was no point in ignoring him, he was just going to insist until she agreed to see him, so she figured it was better to get it over with as soon as possible.

The cafe he'd told her to meet him at was an old shabby place, and in fact the entire neighborhood around Northern Avenue was dirty and notoriously one of the worst places to live in Velaris. She wondered why he'd wanted to meet at this address as she walked through the door and found him sitting in one of the booths, looking at her. She felt her breathing speed up as the shame from the night before invaded her, but he gave her a gentle and warm smile from across the room, a smile that calmed her anxiety, if only a little bit. She advanced towards him and took a seat across from him at the table, avoiding looking up and finding herself staring into his eyes, beautiful, mesmerizing eyes, but probably full of pity. Or worse, disdain. They didn't talk for a long while, and she wondered if he was waiting for her to start up a conversation. Not eager to broach the subject of the previous night, she asked what she thought was probably a harmless question:

"Why did you want to meet here?"

"You see the building across the street, the green door? That's the building where I live."

"Oh."

Silence invaded the room around them, tense and heavy despite the noise coming from the other customers, until finally, Rhysand started talking.

"Feyre, you need to get out of this relationship. You need to get away from him."

She looked up at him to find not pity, not disdain in his eyes, just… anger. The same anger she'd seen the night before after Tamlin had yelled at her.

"What you saw last night, it's not what you think."

"And what do I think?" She opened her mouth to answer, but found that she wasn't able to say those words out loud. He saw her reaction and kept talking. "Because if you think that I thought he was about to hit you, then you would be right."

"You don't know Tamlin. You're wrong about him. He can be harsh sometimes, but he wouldn't hit me. He only wants what's best for me. And sometimes, when he's scared for me, or when he's frustrated like last night, he can get angry, but he wouldn't hurt me."

"Feyre, what I saw yesterday, that's not normal. That's not just someone who's angry. That's not a lover's quarrel. He destroyed half of his office out of rage, and he was walking towards you when we came in. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if we hadn't."

"Nothing would have happened, he would have just… he would have yelled some more and I would have calmed him down."

He seemed taken aback by her answer, and he said softly; "It's not the first time this happened, is it? How many times has he yelled at you that way? You told me once he threw books on the floor, was that the first time?"

"I… It's not what you think."

"It wasn't, then. You need to leave him, Feyre."

"It's not that simple. I love him."

"That house is a dangerous place for you, I don't want you to get hurt."

"And what do you care if I get hurt?" She let out, more angrily than she'd intended. "What is it to you if something happens to me?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes fixed on her with an expression she couldn't quite understand, but looked like sorrow and fear. She looked down at the table, unable to hold his gaze any longer, uncomfortable with what she saw in his eyes. Finally, he sighed.

"I care because I've seen way too many women that were with someone like your boyfriend. I care, because I don't want to come to your house one day and find you in the same state I found the office last night. I care, Feyre, because I know how this story ends if you let it happen, and I don't want this to happen to you."

"Nothing will happen to me, Rhysand. Tamlin yells when he's angry, but he wouldn't hurt me, he loves me."

"I know he loves you, and I know you think you love him. But yelling when he's mad at you, that's only the beginning, Feyre. First, he yells when he's mad, but it's fine, because you think you did something wrong and you think you deserve his anger. He starts yelling for smaller issues, but it's just words, they can't hurt you, or you think they can't, and you say nothing. Then he takes his anger out on the furniture, he throws ashtrays on the floor, he flips chairs in the kitchen, he yells more often than he used to. But you let it go, and you clean it up. And someday, destroying objects isn't enough for him anymore, and instead of hitting the walls, he starts hitting you. I can't let that happen to you, Feyre."

She couldn't speak. She didn't know if she was still breathing, if her heart was still beating. She felt her eyes fill with tears and she wanted to disappear inside the chair. She couldn't look at him, she couldn't move. But he moved for her. His hand crossed the distance between them and she felt warm fingers on hers as he started speaking again.

"I can't imagine how hard this is for you, Feyre, but I want to help you. Anything you need, I can help you."

She let a few tears fall on her cheeks, unable to look at him but relishing in the feeling of his hand on her. As if he understood what she needed at that very moment, he started stroking her softly, silently, probably letting her sort through her many thoughts. After five minutes without talking during which the waiter came and served them two cups of coffee, she finally found the strength to look up at him.

"I won't leave him, Rhysand. I love him, and I trust him. I know you must think I'm ridiculous because of his lies and of what you saw last night, but all this… This isn't the man I fell in love with, you don't know him like I do. He gets angry sometimes, but the rest of the time, he's kind, and sweet, and he takes care of me. I trust him, I know he would never hurt me. I won't leave him."

She could see the pain in his eyes, but she knew she was right. Because of course, Rhysand would think Tamlin was a bad person. He was a police officer who had been spending the last two years of his life scouting for sketchy behavior and running in circles of people who killed innocents in cold blood. Of course he would see one slip up and think Tamlin was a bad person. But he wasn't. He had taken care of her ever since they had started dating, and she couldn't throw all of that away just because he was quick to throwing something on the floor once in a while.

But even knowing she was in the right, she couldn't stand to look at Rhysand any longer. So she took her hand back, grabbed her bag and got up.

"Thank you for the coffee. I'll see you soon."

And she was gone before he could answer.


	15. Chapter 15

Hi everybody! So, I'm so sorry I didn't update for so long. If you follow me on Tumblr, you might have seen the fluff challenge I gave myself in December. It was really hard but really fun! I'm sorry I didn't post it here, it was way too much work to post it on three platforms... But you can check it out on my Tumblr :)

Anywayyyyy now we're back on business! I'm planning on updating once every two weeks, more or less.

This chapter is the hardest from the fic, it pictures direct domestic violence, so be warned. I hope you like it anyway, and please let me know if you did!

* * *

The next few weeks gave her all the more reasons to trust her judgement. Tamlin was charming, he was kind and caring and always attentive to what she needed. He stopped pestering her about leaving her job, and even came to see her at the bakery every time she was working to give her a kiss or grab a muffin. He bought her a new set of watercolors and didn't bring up the subject of his failed proposal. He had stopped complaining about her spending her nights in the living room, and didn't make any more remarks about her lack of libido the last few months. She felt liberated, as if all that had happened had been just momentary, a bad dream that had felt too real.

She was still helping Rhysand, and in fact they had met three other times to organize a second visit into Tamlin's office. He'd been reluctant at first, and had again tried to talk her into leaving Tamlin during the first meeting, but she had shut him down and went on with the plan anyway, delivering the scans to him during his next visit to their house. She was still willing to help him, eager even, but she had stopped texting him at night. She knew she was right to stay with Tamlin, and she felt some level of shame every time she talked with Rhysand, so she had stopped texting him altogether.

She started painting again. To the delight of her boyfriend, she now spent most of her free time in her painting studio, coming out late at night with her clothes covered in fresh stains. She was only working on one project, but it absorbed her more than she cared to admit.

About three weeks after the party, she was coming from the garden and heading upstairs to her studio when she spotted Rhysand at the front door of their house. Checking the corridor and finding Tamlin's office door closed, she went to see him.

"Hey," she said somehow shyly, and he turned to her to give her a small smile.

"Hey. How are you?"

He was always asking her how she was these days. Always concerned about her, it seemed, and she had mixed feelings about it, oscillating between wanting him to stop, and feeling flattered to have someone selflessly concerned about her well-being. So she smiled back at him and answered.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Fine. Actually, I wanted to talk to you, I -"

"Feyre, Doll," he was interrupted by Tamlin coming out of his office, "what are you doing down here? I thought you wanted to get some painting done?" He was smiling at her and joined them in the doorway as two other men came out of his office.

"I was, but I saw Rhysand and thought I'd say hello. I'm going to leave you guys to your business," she finished, and gave Rhysand a smile before heading upstairs to her studio and starting to work on her painting with new enthusiasm, the colors and shades she needed clearer than they had been before.

* * *

Another few days went by, and Feyre was coming back from work after an afternoon at the bakery. She came inside the house, dropped her keys and phone on the small table near the door and was about to go into the kitchen and get some water when she heard Tamlin call her from upstairs. His voice sounded strained, but she was still far away, and she climbed the stairs looking for him. Only when she realized where he was did she stop walking towards him. But he came out of her painting studio and talked again.

"Feyre, get in here."

"I… Tamlin, it's not -"

"Get. In. Here." And he went back in without waiting for her.

She took a breath to give herself the courage to face him, and entered the studio to find what she was dreading. Tamlin was standing beside her latest work in progress, and he was not happy. She stared at it for a while, taking in the very telling colors and abstract shapes of the watercolor, and waited for him to say something, anything. She couldn't look at him.

"What am I supposed to think of this?"

She kept staring at the painting. It was the opposite of a concrete drawing, really, but then again, Tamlin had always been really good at understanding her paintings, and this one was no exception. The colorful patches of rainbow across a river, the luminous stars in the sky reflecting themselves in the water, a human shape with dark hair and… violet eyes. Well, blue eyes, really, but they had seemed violet that night, and they hadn't left her thoughts since then. She stared at them, unable to look up at her boyfriend and face his wrath.

"I asked you a question, Feyre."

"It's just a painting," she whispered.  
"A painting of another man! A painting that you've been working on for weeks, that you've been obsessed with for weeks!"

She finally looked away from the violet eyes and turned to Tamlin. "I'm just… I was just inspired, Tam. There's nothing more to it."

"How am I supposed to believe that when you hid it from me for this long?!" He was yelling now, and she felt her heart starting to race in her chest. "How am I supposed to think that there's nothing between you two when just the other day you went out of your way to talk to him at the front door?"

"Out of my way? I was passing by and I said hello! There is nothing between us, he's just nice to me."

"Like he was nice to you the night of the accident with Sandy?"

"You mean the night Hart _murdered _someone in our living room? You mean the night you were so angry you weren't able to help me? Yes, Rhysand was nice to me that night, he helped me when you couldn't. He was the better man that night." She knew she was angering him more than he already was, but she didn't care. Not anymore.

"That's why you're painting _him_, then? Because he was 'the better man', as you say?"

"I'm painting him because his eyes have an interesting color that I have never seen before, okay? Stop imagining things! Stop acting like I'm in the wrong just because I dared to express myself for once!"

"Oh, I'm imagining things? Just like I'm imagining the fact that you have been refusing to have sex with me for weeks now? Am I imagining that, too?!"

She felt tears fill her eyes as she answered: "That has _nothing _to do with my painting! Nothing! I love you, I just -"

"You expect me to believe that you love me when you go around whoring yourself out to other men?"

"Wh - what?" She couldn't control her sobs anymore, and she had more and more difficulty understanding what he was saying. Tamlin uncrossed his arms and started pacing in front of the painting.

"You heard me! You're always talking to other men and smiling at them, making them believe you're available!"

"When have I ever -"  
"At that bakery of yours, you're just there, _insisting _on keeping this meaningless job even though we don't need it, all so you can meet people and -"

"Yes!" She was the one interrupting him this time. "Yes I keep my job there because I need to see other people than just you, Tam! It's always you, I am always with you, I barely see my family anymore, I haven't seen my friends in nearly a year and -"

"What friends? You have no friends, Feyre, make no mistake! Now you're going to come here and throw this painting away."

She stared at him in disbelief, and then at the painting. "No."

He was quiet for a second. "No?"

"No. I won't throw away a painting I've worked so hard on and am really proud of."

"You are going to throw it away and I don't care how proud you are of it."

"No!"

He breathed deeply. "Just to be clear, are you disobeying me?"

"I don't have to obey you!" She knew her answer was a mistake the second it left her lips.

Tamlin quickly moved to reach her and he grabbed both her wrists in his hands, forcing her against the wall behind her. "You are going to throw it away, Feyre! This is not a request, and you do not have a choice!"

"Tam, Tam you're hurting me," She let out in a breath, trying in vain to tear her wrists away from his grasp. He unceremoniously dragged her towards the painting without letting go, and yelled.

"Look at it now if you want to, because it is going to burn before the sun is down tonight, I don't care if I have to do it myself!"

"Tam, please, you're hurting me…"

"And you're not hurting me? Don't you think I'm hurt at seeing how you're abandoning me without looking back even once?!"

"I'm not… I don't want to abandon you, Tam, I love you… Please…" She couldn't get out of his hands, and she couldn't see anything clearly with the amount of tears in her eyes. She only knew that her wrists had never been in such pain before, and she felt her legs yield under her, but she remained somewhat upright in Tamlin's grasp.

"You don't want to look at it, then? Fine, I'll get rid of it myself!" He pushed her away from him and she fell to the floor, clutching her wrists against her chest as she saw him leaving the room with her painting under an arm.

* * *

She didn't stop the tears from falling, she didn't feel the need to get up from the floor as she heard Tamlin go downstairs, as she heard the noise of cracking wood and guessed he was reducing the canvas to pieces. He stayed downstairs for a long while, and she didn't move an inch all the time he was there.

Then finally, she heard him climb back upstairs, and he entered the painting room to find her still curled up on the floor, her tears dried up but not moving. She felt him crouching beside her.

"Feyre?" His voice was low and calm, and she felt like he was himself again. He was going to be kind again, and she started to feel relief. But there was a voice in her head, a voice that prevented her from letting his kindness reach her. "_And someday, destroying objects isn't enough for him anymore, and instead of hitting the walls, he starts hitting you."_ She couldn't think of anything else as she held her wrists against her chest and felt Tamlin's hands on her shoulder. "_instead of hitting the walls, he starts hitting you."_ She could feel the truth in those words, she could feel it in a way she had never been able to before. She could feel them as well as she could feel the pain in her wrists, as well as she could see Tamlin not letting go of her despite her pleas.

She could see the next months of her life, the next years, play out in front of her eyes in a series of worsening evenings like this one, and she wasn't ready to accept it. So she made a decision as she heard Tamlin repeat her name beside her. She turned to him, and gave him a small smile.

"It's okay, Tam. I understand why you were angry. I shouldn't have painted that, and I shouldn't have refused to throw it out. It's okay."

Surprise flashed on his face, quickly replaced by a pleased expression as he too smiled at her.

"Oh Feyre, Doll, I'm so glad you understand. I know I overreacted a little, but… you have to understand that I love you, and I don't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not Tam, I promise, I'm not."

"Good, that's good. Because… You know I need to go to that dinner for work tonight, the one with Lucien and my father. I can't take you but I really need to go and I would hate for things to be left unsaid between us."

She had forgotten about that dinner. Perfect. "It's okay, Tam, you can go. I'm okay. _We're _okay." She kissed him softly to emphasize her point, and he seemed to finally relax. She slowly got up, grabbed his hand to make him follow her and led him to their bedroom. They spent the next half hour choosing his suit for the night, she led him to the entrance, gave him a kiss at the door and a smile as he got into the car where Lucien was waiting for him, and waved to them as the car drove away.

Then she got back inside, grabbed her phone and wallet, and left.


	16. Chapter 16

Hi everyone! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter :) Just letting you know that I did see all your amazing comments, I just have very little free time or energy so I didn't answer them but omg thank you all so much :)

* * *

She didn't really know where she was going at first, and in fact, she quickly started to regret leaving in a short summer dress. She kept walking as the sun set over the city, and the cold settled around her, sending shivers through her body. She walked, and walked, and walked, not knowing what to do, and not really caring to decide.

She kept reliving the whole chain of events, seeing Tamlin's angry look as she came in the door, feeling his hands tightening around her wrists, and imagining him destroying her painting.

And leaving. As she walked aimlessly through the center of the city, she still couldn't believe what she'd done. Leaving Tamlin. It sounded like a fantasy, something she would have never imagined herself doing. She loved him, she wanted to be with him and to have a life with him. Or so she thought anyway. because even though she was certain of her love for him, she knew that the man she had just left was not the man she wanted to spend her life with. Maybe he had been, once upon a time, when they had met, and dated, and moved in together. But not anymore. She'd left him, and it felt strange and scary, but also _right_. And as she walked down one of the streets leading up to the river, she felt better. For the first time in months, she felt free.

It didn't take away the fact that she was in the middle of the street on a random evening, with no money and nowhere to go. Rush of the moment decisions felt good, but now there was the matter of what she would do next. She sat on a bench in front of the Sidra, and stared at the river for a moment, thinking. After maybe an hour, once the sun had disappeared and the warmth of the day had been replaced by a chilly wind, a solution started to present itself in her mind. An escape that had been there for a while, despite her various attempt at denying its existence and pushing it away. "_Anything you need, I can help you."_

She got up from the bench and started walking towards Northern Avenue

* * *

The green door across the street from the shabby cafe. Feyre found herself standing in front of it for a while, reluctant to go in. She could have texted him before, and it would have actually made a lot of sense, but she hadn't wanted to let the idea form in her mind. Texting him before she was here would have felt like too much pressure, and she hadn't been ready for it.

But she didn't have a choice now.

_10:09 - Are you asleep?_

The answer came almost immediately.

_Rhys, 10:10 - No. Is everything okay?_

_10:10 - Are you home?_

_Rhys, 10:10 - Yes. Feyre, what's going on?_

She didn't want to explain it in a text, so she simply answered:

_10:11 - I'm in front of your building._

He was downstairs in under a minute. She whispered a shy 'hello' but he didn't answer right away, instead she saw his eyes scan her body from head to toe, as if looking for injuries. Finally his eyes met hers, and heat invaded her cheeks, as she started to realize she would have to explain why she'd chosen to come to him.

But he didn't ask her any questions, instead, he said:

"Come on up."

They entered a dark hallway, and he led her to the staircase at the end of it, climbing up two flights of stairs to get to a short corridor comprised of four apartment doors. He opened the second door to the left, and gestured for her to come in.

The apartment was not what she had pictured Rhys living in. The place consisted of a single room, with a small bed against one wall, a kitchen across from it, and a desk in a corner. There was an armchair at the foot of the bed, under the single window into the apartment, with a coffee table in front of it. The walls were covered in old faded wallpaper, and the tiles on the floor had lost so much color that they looked eternally dirty. The only other door was probably the one leading to the bathroom.

Rhysand went to sit on the bed, and smiled at her. Feyre took a seat in the armchair, and they stayed silent for a while. She knew he wanted to let her have space, and he wouldn't force her to speak if she didn't want to. But she didn't know what to say, so she just stayed seated on the chair, looking around the room, anywhere but at him.

She was staring at the door of the bathroom when he spoke:

"Do you want to drink something?"

She turned to him, and nodded. "A water would be nice."

He got up to fetch a glass, and as he had his back to her, Feyre felt the need to say something.

"You were right."

He glanced at her for a second, but went back to filling the glass.

"About Tamlin. You were right about what would happen if I stayed in that house with him." He handed her the glass of water, and she took a sip.

"Did he hurt you?" Rhys asked as he sat down on the bed again.

"My wrists hurt a little, and my knees, too. But I… I don't want to talk about it right now, if that's okay." She hated how weak her voice was, and she hated the shame she felt inside at recalling what had happened. But he started talking again, and his voice was strong and warm, helpful.

"It's okay, Feyre, we don't have to talk about anything you don't want to talk about. You just tell me what you need, alright?"

She nodded, and they didn't speak for a while, as she slowly drank the water he'd given her, and tried to pull her thoughts together. She was cold in her thin dress, but more than that, she wanted to take it off.

"Could I maybe take a shower?"

"Of course," he answered, and the flirty remark she was expecting didn't come. He was gentle, and he got up to grab a towel, as well as some clothes, from his dresser.

"You have shampoo and soap in the shower. And some clothes if you want to change afterwards."

She whispered a 'thank you' and went in the bathroom, as small and bad-looking as the rest of the apartment. But the water was hot, and Rhysand's shampoo smelled of jasmine. She took her time to try and relax her sore muscles, massaged her hair for a moment, and finally, she just stood there, silent, letting the water run down her skin and trying not to think about the events of the day. After another moment of relishing in the flowery smell around her, she turned off the water and got out, wrapping herself in the warm, soft towel Rhys had given her. Then she moved to the clothes and put on her underwear. But as she reached for her dress, she found herself incapable of touching it.

She wanted to be rid of it, she wanted to leave it behind and never think about it again. Because when she looked at it, she could feel Tamlin's hands around her wrists, and his angry eyes as he was screaming at her, and the way the floor had felt when she'd fallen in front of the painting.

Trying to keep the tears from rushing to her eyes, she grabbed the clothes Rhys had left with her dress and put them on. The tracksuit were way too big for her, and she had to fold the bottom of it to get her feet out, but it was warm and comfortable. And more than anything else, it came without any bad memories. Once she had completed her outfit with the plain blue shirt and the hoodie, she came out of the bathroom, leaving her dress behind.

Rhys was standing in front of the stove, boiling water when she came out. He glanced at her, and said in a flirty voice:

"My clothes suit you, Darling."

She rolled her eyes and went to sit on the bed. "I knew you wouldn't be kind for too long." But if she was being honest, she was grateful for his change of tone. Seeing him worried and gentle was strange, and a little scary. Him flirting shamelessly with her, that was familiar terrain, that was easy.

He brought two hot mugs over, handed her one, and sat beside her on the bed. Feyre drank hers in silence, enjoying the smell of the herbal tea and the sensation of warmth that invaded her.

After a few quiet minutes, he spoke, his voice softer again.

"Feyre, I don't want to force you to tell me what happened, but I need to know more or less what's going on, just to know what we can do. Is that okay?"

She nodded, and he continued.

"Okay. So… does he know you left yet?"

"I don't think so, no. He went to a dinner for work tonight, and he wasn't planning on coming home early."

"All right. Did you leave a note or something?"

"No, I… I didn't think about this, I just wanted to leave and… was I supposed to?" She felt tears rise in her eyes, but Rhys said:

"You weren't _supposed_ to do anything, Feyre. You did good, leaving. Whatever else needs to happen, we'll figure it out together. Can you give me your phone?"

"Why?"

"Because you need to sleep, and your phone is going to start ringing the minute he realizes you're not there." Her breathing quickened at that, and Rhys cupped her chin to make her look at him. "It's gonna be okay, Feyre. For now you just need to try and get some rest, and we'll talk more in the morning about what to do next, what do you say?"

At the mention of sleep, she realized she was exhausted. The entirety of her body felt sore and tired, and she had a hard time keeping her eyes open. Giving him back the half empty mug of herbal tea, she nodded, and laid back on the bed, watching him walk to the sink with the mugs. She was asleep within seconds.

* * *

Feyre woke up to the sound of cars honking in the street. She turned around under the warm covers, and it took her a few seconds to register the strangeness of her environment. She wasn't in her bed, and Tamlin wasn't beside her.

Tamlin.

It all came back to her as she opened her eyes. The screams, the violence, leaving. And Rhys.

She peeped outside the quilt, to find Rhys in the armchair, asleep in what looked like a very uncomfortable position. She slowly rose up, and quietly walked to the bathroom. She remembered she had fallen asleep on top of the covers. He must have moved her during the night.

She tried to come out of the bathroom without making a noise, but he jolted awake at the sound of the bathroom door closing behind her.

"Hey," he said in a hoarse voice, passing a hand over his face and getting up from the chair.

"Hi."

"Did you sleep well?"

"I did, thanks. Sorry I took your bed…"

"Don't worry about it," he answered. "I didn't sleep much anyway. Do you want to eat anything? I only have coffee here, but we can go to the cafe outside and have some breakfast if you want."

She thought about leaving the apartment. And immediately felt her chest tightening and her breathing speeding up.

"Coffee is fine, really. Thanks."

"Okay."

He started on preparing the coffee, and she stood beside him, silent. The water hadn't started boiling yet when he talked.

"Feyre, we need to figure out what you want to do now."

"What do you mean?"

"Your phone rang all night, Feyre. He is looking for you."

She'd known it was coming, but she was still taken aback. "What should I do? Should I answer?"

"The way I see it, it's important that he knows you left him voluntarily. Now, you could call him if you want, but you don't have to. You can send him a text, an email, whatever you want."

She thought for a while, but the mere idea of hearing his voice was almost too much.

"I'd prefer sending him a text."

"Okay."

She saw he was about to continue, but she needed to say something first.

"I'm going to need to go back there. I left with nothing, I don't even have clothes or clean underwear, and I… I can't use the dress from yesterday."

"If it's only about the clothes, we can get you new ones, that's not a problem."

"It is for me. I barely have any money. I have a job, but… he didn't want me working too much so it's only a few hours a week and it would never cover any expense like food or living."

"We can worry about those things later. You can stay with me for now, I don't mind."

She couldn't stop her bitter laugh. "No offense, Rhys but your place is a little too small for me to stay here, isn't it?"

The water started boiling, and he took an extra minute to answer, pouring the water into the press. He turned his back to her to stir the coffee and water, and only when he was pressing the plunger into it did he answer.

"If you want to stay with me, I have a solution. It's not ideal, but it'll work. But I understand if you want to go with your family or friends."

She thought of her sisters. Of Elain, who was on the road so much that she barely had a house to call her own, just a small apartment in another city. And of Nesta, with whom she had barely had any contact in years, and who had just gotten married. To Rhys' brother.

She thought of her friends to whom she hadn't talked to in months. She thought of Lucien, the only close friend she had, who was also Tamlin's best friend.

"I'd like to stay with you if I can," she said in a shy voice she didn't like. He prepared two mugs of coffee and handed her one before answering.

"Alright, I'll make the arrangements then."


	17. Chapter 17

Her wrists started bruising a few hours into the morning. Or that was when she realized they were bruising, anyway. Rhys had left the apartment for work, '_just for an hour'_ he'd told her, and she had been chilling on his bed, brainstorming about how to write to Tamlin that she had left him for good.

Thinking of different ways to tell the man who'd wanted to marry her that she wasn't coming back, she took off the hoodie to get more comfortable in the summer weather. That's when she saw it. Her wrists had been hurting since the day before, but she hadn't wanted to focus on it much. But now, seeing the skin of her arms laid bare, she understood why it pained her so much.

Both her wrists were completely red, some parts even starting to turn a darker shade of crimson. And the bruises were big, too, covering nearly half of her forearms. But what really scared her wasn't their color, or their size. It was their shape. Because here, in the midst of reddish marks, you could clearly distinguish the places where strong, large fingers had held her.

She was so absorbed by her discovery that she didn't hear the key turn in the lock, or Rhys come inside the apartment. So she jumped when he said:

"We need to put ice on those."

"Rhys. You're back."

He took off his leather jacket and went to his fridge. "I am. We need to put something cold on your arms if we want to help with the healing." He grabbed a pack of frozen peas from the freezer and wrapped it inside a dishcloth. "Sorry, I only have one, we'll have to switch from one wrist to the other."

He sat beside her, gently took her left hand to rest it on his knees, and laid the pack on top of it. Feyre winced for a second at the sudden cold, but then she smiled at him.

"Sorry for wasting your peas."

"You're not, these are my bruises-and-swellings peas, it's not their first day on the battlefield."

"Do I want to know why you would have something lying around in case of violent fights and black eyes?"

"Maybe I'm just using it after intense workouts."

"You're not, though."

It wasn't a question, and he looked up from her arms to look her in the eyes. "No, I'm not." But he quickly changed the subject, his tone changing. "Feyre, we should take pictures of these."

She wasn't sure she had understood him well. Did he want to… "What?"

"We should take pictures of the bruises, now, and maybe every couple of days as long as they're apparent."

"Why?"

He seemed to think about his answer for a while before saying: "I know this must be the least of your concerns right now, but it could be useful in the future to have proof of what he did to you."

"Proof? You mean… like for a trial?"

"Not necessarily. But if it ever were to come to that, or a similar situation, it could be useful. We don't have to if you don't want to, it's just… I know how these things work, and it wouldn't be right if I didn't tell you my professional opinion on this."

His tone was so solemn, so much like the way he talked to her when they were working, that she couldn't help but take him seriously. She agreed to the photos, and they spent the next ten minutes taking pictures of both her forearms at every angle. All the while, he was talking to her about some art show he'd gone to the week before, and even though she was only half listening, she was grateful for the casual tone of their conversation.

* * *

She wrote to Tamlin just before noon. A short message, because she couldn't handle to write more to him, and she didn't want to keep seeing his calls and messages on her phone.

_I don't want to see you or talk to you right now. Don't try to contact me._

She felt awful the second she sent the message, but she also felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

He didn't stop calling.

* * *

"I'm going to do something," Rhys told her around three o'clock, "and it's going to be something very stupid, and you will have to keep it a secret, but it's important. Okay?"

She nodded, and she watched him as he went to his dresser, took out an old pair of socks from the middle drawer, and unfolded it to reveal a crumpled piece of paper. He then grabbed his phone, copied the info from the piece of paper, and waited. After a few seconds, she heard an unintelligible female voice answer him.

"Mor, it's me." A pause, during which she could hear the voice getting frantic. "Yeah, this is for real. Mor, Mor, stop talking." And suddenly, Feyre remembered Morrigan, Cassian's cousin she had met at the wedding, the short blonde woman with a tendency to hug anyone she liked, and a memorably cheesy speech.

But Rhys continued speaking. "Mor, I'm going to need you to listen to me very carefully, and do exactly what I say. No questions asked. Can you do that?"

A muffled sound that she imagined to be a 'yes,' as Rhys' lips split into a smile. "Good. I'm going to need you to go to the house in The Rainbow - Mor, stop talking and listen to me. You're going to go into the library, open the third drawer of my mom's dresser, and take out the credit card you find there. With the card, you're going to buy women clothes." Feyre started to protest silently beside him, shaking her head, but he covered the phone and whispered "this is just for now, Darling. You can pay me back, okay?" before speaking into the phone again. "I need you to buy at least two or three pairs of pants, about ten tee-shirts, and maybe one or two dresses. In M size. Oh, and some underwear, too. What size? Errr…" He looked awkwardly at her, and heat invaded her cheeks as she whispered her bra size to him "... 34D. Once you have all of this, I want you to bring it back to the house. Okay?" Another pause. "Good, thanks, Mor. Oh, and Mor? The clothes, try to buy average, not something you would wear, alright?" He chuckled at the answer. "Talk to you soon. I love you too."

He hung up, and spent a few seconds staring at his phone with a faint smile, before sighing heavily and glancing at her. She could see he was still somewhat lost in the call to his cousin, so she asked:

"Is it the first time you've talked to her since the beginning of your assignment?"

"It is. It feels strange to hear her voice, it feels so… real."

"I'm sorry."

He turned to her. "For what?"

"For having your first call to your cousin in years be about buying me clothes."

"Don't apologize. If anything, I wouldn't even have talked to her if it hadn't been for you. Plus, Mor loves buying clothes, I'm sure she's thrilled at the idea of an unlimited credit card to spend with."

She chuckled. "I met her at the wedding, you know."

"Oh, that's right! What did you think of her?"

"I liked her. I wasn't in a very good place back then," she decided to gloss over the fact that her situation hadn't changed much since, "but she was very friendly, it felt good."

He smiled, in a lost sort of way that she had never seen on his face before. She tried to imagine how lonely he felt, unable to contact his friends and folks for more than two years, but she found that she couldn't fathom it.

Rhys shook himself and said: "We'll wait an hour and then we'll go."

"Go where?"

He answered with a large grin. "To a house I know you're definitely going to like."


	18. Chapter 18

Hey guys!

So, before you read on, I just wanted to apologize for not having answered every comment. To be honest, 's platform is really bad for comments, basically I have no way to tell if I've answered a comment before, so I can't keep track of them properly. But I just wanted to tell you that I see and appreciate every single comment you give me!

Hope you enjoy this chapter :)

* * *

She stared at the house in front of her for maybe an entire minute, while Rhys paid the cab driver. They were in one of the residential streets of The Rainbow, the sidewalks lined with old trees who gave shadows to the road and to the typical colorful houses of the district, beautiful all around them.

Rhys watched the taxi go beside her, and moved to the little metal gate in front of the house.

The beautiful two story house, painted in a vivid shade of blue, with white windows, and all the curtains closed.

She watched Rhysand walk towards the front door, get down to move one of the stones beside the stairs, and open the door with the key he had found there. Then he turned towards her.

"You coming?" He asked with a smile.

She stepped into the front yard and came inside the house. Rhys closed the front door behind him, and they were alone.

"Whose house is this?" She asked, finding herself whispering without really knowing why.

"Mine," he answered, his voice equally low, and she turned to him, only to find him with an air of awe on his face.

"You haven't been here since…" she couldn't finish her sentence, but he understood and shook his head. "That must be hard."

He answered with an unintelligible sound, moved to the room on the left of the hall, and turned on the light to reveal a small but cozy living-room. A large couch, a tv set, a coffee table. Across the room, through an open arch, a library, filled with many bookshelves, a large dark carpet covering the floor.

And standing in the entrance, Rhysand. Looking at him, Feyre felt as if she was seeing him for the first time, really seeing him. He fit in here, and the house around him felt like a large jigsaw puzzle welcoming its last missing piece.

"This is the living-room, and at the end of this corridor, you'll find the kitchen. I can show you your bedroom if you want, it's upstairs."

She simply nodded, and he started towards the stairs. Feyre followed him, but as she landed on the second floor, she stopped dead in her tracks, unable to look away from the view she found there. A large bay window lay in front of her, offering a view she hadn't been expecting. The river was running calmly just outside the house, and she could see the rest of Velaris on the other side, the residential districts melting away to give space to the mountains behind them. In the light of the afternoon, the river was shining quietly, and Feyre could have spent the rest of her day staring outside, taking in the calm atmosphere surrounding her.

"Feyre?"

Rhys' soft voice brought her back to reality, and she turned to find him looking at her expectantly, waiting in front of an open door. She felt heat creep up her cheeks and she advanced to him.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize, I know the view is breathtaking. But don't worry, you'll get to enjoy it from your bedroom."

Indeed, the room she entered was a continuation of the bay window, with an access to the outside, a door opening in the glass, like there had been in the corridor. Outside, she could see a few patio chairs, a table, and a closed-up beach umbrella.

After a minute, she tore her eyes away from the outside to take in the bedroom. Simple, with modern furniture and what looked like a comfortable bed, the room felt light, welcoming. On top of the bed were a few shopping bags, and she suddenly remembered the clothes Rhys' cousin was supposed to have bought for her.

"I'll let you change if you want. I'm heading downstairs, if we're lucky there might be some canned food in one of the cupboards of the kitchen."

She approved with an unintelligible sound, and he left, closing the door behind him. She sat on the bed, and felt a sudden wave of weariness crash onto her. She decided to lay down for a minute before heading downstairs.

* * *

She woke up to the soft evening light coming through the window. Disoriented for a second, she looked outside, and once again found comfort in the view of the river. She didn't know how long it had been since she'd fallen asleep, and she didn't really want to look at her phone. Not if it meant having to see Tamlin's missed calls and unread texts.

She got up, dug through the shopping bags to find clean underwear and suitable clothes, and once she was dressed with a pair of dark leggings and a pink shirt, she went downstairs to look for Rhys.

No one was there, and the curtains were still drawn, but a light was on in the kitchen. She went in to find a bag of groceries and a note on the counter.

_Feyre,_

_I had to go back to work and didn't want_

_to wake you up. I got some groceries if you_

_want to eat something. Feel free to look_

_around the house. Call me if you need_

_anything. Back tomorrow morning,_

_Rhys_

She stared at the note for a while, but didn't dwell too long on it as she took in the food waiting for her in the bag. She was starving. She took a bag of pasta out of the bag, found a saucepan, and spent the next fifteen minutes making some semblance of a meal for herself.

Once it was ready, she went into the living room, curled up in one of the armchairs, and ate quietly.

Alone in this big house, she would have been right to stress out a little, but she felt peaceful. Everything around her spoke to her, as if it had been made to welcome her and offer her the best shelter possible. The living room felt cozy and warm, the kitchen had been a delight to use, and she couldn't wait to climb back up to her bedroom and enjoy the view of the Sidra. This house felt right around her, and as she finished her plate and took it to the kitchen, Feyre couldn't help but think about its owner.

After seeing him standing here, it was impossible to imagine him living in the tiny studio on Northern Avenue. That wasn't Rhys. And it wasn't the size of the house, or the different neighborhood. It was just the feeling that emanated from here, like a warm drink on a cold winter night or the intoxicating smell of freshly cut flowers. Or the feeling of strong, gentle hands gently stroking your legs to calm you down.

The memory of Rhysand's hands on her body brought her back to reality, and with a blush, she finished washing her dishes and darted upstairs, in the unlikely hope that she would stop her thoughts from drifting off to him.

* * *

The warmth of the summer sun woke her up the next morning, and she kept her eyes closed for as long as possible, enjoying the smell of the clean sheets around her. The house was silent around her, and she could hear the murmur of the river coming through the open bay window. She could have stayed that way forever, unburdened, peaceful.

Just then, she had a realization. She was supposed to work that day. She had the afternoon shift at the bakery. Except she couldn't go. Tamlin knew her schedule, he was certain to go there and look for her the moment her shift was supposed to begin. And she wasn't ready to confront him yet.

So she grabbed her phone off the nightstand and, ignoring the unending list of missed calls and unread texts, she found her boss' number and called.

Mary answered almost immediately, and Feyre didn't even have time to say hello before she started talking.

"Feyre? Are you okay?"

"I… I'm fine. Why? What's going on?"

"Your boyfriend stormed in here yesterday afternoon, he was looking for you and he was very angry."

"Oh God, Mary I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, some of our regulars from the fire station were here and got him under control, but… he scared everybody, Feyre. He kept yelling at me and the girls to know if we were hiding you from him, he seemed… frantic. I tried to call you afterwards but you didn't answer."

"Yes, I'm sorry, I kind of ignored my phone the last couple of days. He didn't hurt anyone, did he?"

"No, but Feyre, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I left him two days ago." And because she didn't want to answer any other questions and talk more about Tamlin, she continued: "Would it be okay if I took a few days off? I don't really want to run into him right now."

"Absolutely, no problem. In fact, why don't you take a couple of weeks? The work is slow these days anyway."

She felt a rush of gratitude go through her. "That would be great, thank you, Mary!"

Her boss' voice was softer when she answered. "No problem. And Feyre?"

"Hum?"

"Be careful, okay?"

"I will."

She hung up and laid back on the bed. At least she didn't have to go out to work.

* * *

She got bored around two in the afternoon. Despite his note, Rhys hadn't shown up, and she found herself wandering aimlessly through the house, spending some time on the terrace, cooking, and laying on her bed.

But there was only so much to do without going out, and she really didn't feel like going out.

So instead she ended up in the library, her eyes roaming over the books to try and find something interesting. No luck. Not that the books didn't seem good, but she just couldn't seem to care about them. Until she reached the bottom shelf, and read a label that picked her interest.

"Highschool years - Knight family"

A photo album.

She felt guilty for a moment when she grabbed it, but her curiosity got the best of her. She took out the album and settled on the nearest sofa to look at it.

The first few pages were filled with pictures of mountains, and a campsite, and were titled 'summer vacations 2009' in Rhysand's writing. Had he compiled those himself? She turned the pages slowly, laughing at the sight of the picture of a teenage Rhys clearly showing off his new car, probably his first, in front of a big house, as a woman was smiling at him fondly from the side, a toddler in her arms. Feyre wondered if she was his mom, and her answer came on the next page. One picture featured Cassian and Rhys grinning widely, each of them with an arm around Azriel, as he held up a banner saying "FINALLY ONE OF US!" in his hands. The next picture was of Azriel with an elderly couple signing papers, the woman from the previous photo crying of joy and the man smiling softly at the boy.

The day Azriel had been adopted, most certainly. Feyre felt her heart fill with joy at the thought. Even though she barely knew the people in the photos, their happiness was slipping through and she couldn't help her smile.

The next few pages were almost exclusively featuring Rhys and his brothers in highschool, joined by Morrigan. All of them looked so young, so happy and carefree, as they went to baseball games together, smoked what looked to be more than cigarettes in a shabby-looking garage, and chilled in front of a fireplace at a winter cabin. They were occasionally joined by their parents, but never by Mor's parents, she realized.

As she advanced throughout the album, a little girl started to appear more, too, no more than three or four years old at first, with the same striking blue eyes Rhysand had, laughing and running around everywhere. His little sister?

She hadn't been at the wedding. Neither had his parents.

She didn't go on. There wasn't many possible explanations as to why the groom's parents and sister wouldn't be at his wedding, and none of them were particularly happy. She had no right finding out about it in a photo album, and she didn't want to. So she closed it and put it back on the shelf.

She was about to move away when a framed picture caught her eye. It was covered in dust, tucked between two books but still visible. She grabbed the frame and took it out, unable to stop her curiosity. Her lips parted in surprise when she took in the photo.

It was Rhysand. Maybe a few years younger than he was now, probably twenty years old. He had a wide grin on his lips, and he seemed proud. So proud, in his dark blue, brand new, police uniform. He was even wearing a cap on top of his head. Graduating, probably. It's what it looked like, anyway.

Feyre found herself staring at the photo, staring at him. The man she had grown to know so well, to trust, even.

The man in the photo was different. And it wasn't the uniform. It was his features. She let her fingers trail along his face in the frame. His grin was large, but most of all, it was happy. She had never seen him smile that way. He was smiling at her, a lot. But it was always so… guarded.

And his eyes. These eyes she couldn't stop studying every chance she got. They were always tired, almost sad. Here, in the picture, in this memory of another day, they were bright, full of pride and hope for the years to come. It made her sad. Because she would have loved to meet him then, when his eyes were full of light instead of sadness. And she didn't know if she ever would.

But… maybe it wasn't so bad. Rhysand being different from the man he had been then. Maybe, it was just like she was different from who she'd been a few months ago. And she felt better for it. Maybe Rhys felt that way, too.

So she put the frame back, leaving the memory behind, and looked for a book that would distract her until he came back.


End file.
